


Fall From Grace

by maddierose



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Mentor/Protégé, Mother-Son Relationship, Slow Burn, Space Battles, Teen Pregnancy, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24177565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddierose/pseuds/maddierose
Summary: Valencia Jinn is determined to put the mistakes of her younger years behind her, but matters are complicated by her feelings for lifelong friend and mentor Obi-Wan Kenobi. But darkness looms on the horizon, and an old enemy is hellbent on getting revenge for his father's death. Where do you stand in a war where you're beginning to doubt everyone's intentions? Obi-Wan/OC.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	1. Genesis

**Warnings: none**

“Did you want to go again?”

Valencia Jinn most certainly did not. Her head throbbed and her entire body ached. Her Jedi robes clung to her body, damp with sweat. Easing herself up from the hard floor of the Sparring Arena, she took the hand that her opponent offered her. Aayla Secura tugged the younger woman to her feet. She didn’t smirk, good-natured about her victory, but it didn’t stop Valencia from welling with disappointment.

Aayla and Valencia had been friends for many years, and Valencia struggled with letting go of the jealousy she felt. Aayla deserved everything that had come her way – she had been barely twenty when she had been Knighted, and immediately gone on to take an apprentice. There was even talk of her being promoted to Master.

Valencia, on the other hand, would soon be 24 and was still a Padawan. She tried her best to make light of it – all Jedi reached Knighthood in their own time – yet she still could not help but feel she should be better, particularly considering her heritage.

It had been ten years since Valencia’s father, Qui-Gon Jinn, had been killed by a Sith Lord on Naboo. She had not been overly close with him – the Code forbade attachment, after all. Yet that had not stopped her from feeling grief at his passing. It had taken some time for her to work through those troubled emotions, with help from her master, Rhesa Vandelay.

Stowing her lightsaber away, Valencia linked her arm through Aayla’s and allowed her friend to lead her toward the canteen in search of food. They were far from the only ones there – and were swiftly approached by a girl in her late teens, a Padawan braid swinging in her dark hair.

“Valencia. Aayla.” Marion Sorrell, Aayla’s Padawan, joined them as they queued up for lunch. She was a quiet girl, mature for her age. Very different to the rebellious brat that Valencia had been at seventeen. “Did you hear about the attempt on Senator Amidala?”

“No,” Valencia confessed, immediately curious, “What happened?”

“She came to vote against the Military Creation Act.” Marion swept her braid over her shoulder, accepting a lunch tray and sparing Aayla a quick look before continuing. “Her ship blew up moments after she landed. Her decoy was killed, but she survived.”

Valencia wondered where Marion had heard this if she didn’t know yet, but put it down to gossip among Padawans. Kids liked to talk and news of that nature could spread like wildfire throughout the Temple.

She understood precisely why Amidala had come – Count Dooku and the Separatists were a genuine threat, and the Jedi were no army, but a peacekeeping force. She knew that Amidala intended to vote against the Military Creation Act – the woman had made no secret of that.

“Senator Palpatine has requested protection for her,” Marion continued as the three women sat down at one of the tables. “Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, since the Senator is already familiar with them.”

Valencia frowned. “Aren’t they still on Ansion?”

Aayla shook her head. “They reported back this morning and were given the new mission.”

Valencia picked at her food, remaining silent as she processed the news. She had not been aware of their return. Obi-Wan Kenobi was one of her oldest friends – her father’s former Padawan, someone she had known since she was a very small child. He had been instrumental in her learning to move past of Qui-Gon’s death.

Anakin…Valencia didn’t mind him, but they weren’t as close. In truth, she was closer to his age than Obi-Wan’s, although it seemed strange remembering that. Anakin could be reckless and immature. Valencia knew she had been brash in her younger years, but perhaps not quite to that extent.

“Excuse me.” Valencia shovelled down the last of her lunch. She could really feel her robes, still slightly damp from sweat, chafing against her skin. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation. “I need to wash after that intense sparring session.”

Aayla flashed her a grin. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

Valencia made her way across town to the Senator’s residence to greet her old friends. She was showered and her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail – with the exception of her Padawan braid, which hung down the side of her face. It irritated her, for more reasons than one.

As she entered the Senator’s residence, intimidated by the opulence of the place, Anakin was nowhere to be seen. However, Obi-Wan was reclining on one of the couches with a data-pad in his hands, his brow furrowed in deep thought. Valencia cleared her throat and he looked up, a warm smile spreading across his features.

“Valencia.”

She echoed the smile, crossing the room in a few quick strides. There was always a sense of ease that came with Obi-Wan’s presence, like he was a balm to her occasional restlessness. She didn’t dwell on how handsome he was, for no good could come from that line of thought. She might have been a Jedi, but she was still a woman.

“I heard you were back and thought I’d come to see you.” Valencia seated herself on the couch beside Obi-Wan. Although she was a little surprised at Anakin’s absence, she guessed that her friend’s Padawan was currently with the Senator.

“How have you been?” he asked.

“Well enough.” She raked the braid out of her face, admitting something she would have to very few others. “A little agitated.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

“It’s nothing.” She felt embarrassed about mentioning her agitation and wondered whether it might have served her better to lie. Yet there was an instinctual urge to trust Obi-Wan, a feeling that she could speak her mind honestly without judgement in his presence. Perhaps it stemmed from the fact that he had been the one to firmly talk her out of her errant ways as a teenager.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

“I know a Jedi shouldn’t be resentful,” Valencia selected her words carefully, shoulders dropping. “But sometimes, I am jealous that Aayla is a Knight, and I am not.”

“It happens.” Obi-Wan did not reprimand her, did not tell her that she shouldn’t feel that way. “The two of you are good friends.”

Valencia sighed. “I should have more patience.”

“You will be a Knight soon enough,” Obi-Wan assured her. It didn’t feel that way to her. Obi-Wan had been a year older than her when he’d become a Knight, yet in many ways, Valencia felt she was far off the Trials.

“I hope so, but my master says that although I am sensible, I can be…a little reckless.”

Rhesa was a calm and patient master, but even she had her moments when she despaired of Valencia. Less so in more recent years, but Valencia wondered how her master had even put up with her during her late teens.

“Well, you can be,” Obi-Wan admitted, “But we all can.”

The ghost of a smile curved the corners of Valencia’s lips. “She says I am as defiant as my father.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “He was a good man, and a fine Jedi.”

She examined him. “Do you miss him?”

“Of course.” She wondered how it felt for him, seeing that she was so similar to Qui-Gon – or so she had been told. It was Obi-Wan who would pick up on those similarities the most. Did it still hurt sometimes, when she displayed some quirk that Qui-Gon once had?

“I do too.” She had stopped mourning him, but that didn’t stop her from dwelling on what things might be like if he was around. “We weren’t close. It’s the way of Jedi children and their parents. I think you knew him a lot better than I ever did.”

“Well, I did.”

“I should return to the Temple.” Valencia eased herself to her feet. She didn’t think it was fair to be occupying Obi-Wan’s time, considering the importance of what he and Anakin were doing. She turned and offered him a grin. “I would like your help later though, with my combat forms, if you have time.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. She could sense that he was stressed and that perhaps it hadn’t been the best time for a visit. Yet it had been months since they’d last seen each other, and she’d forgotten how nice it was to be in his presence. Turning her mind from such thoughts, she departed Senator Amidala’s quarters without a backward glance.

* * *

Night had fallen over Coruscant as Obi-Wan and Anakin paced the upper levels of Senator Amidala’s apartment. The idea that anyone would want to assassinate Padme was deeply concerning, particularly for Anakin. It had not escaped Obi-Wan’s notice that his young apprentice seemed quite infatuated with the Senator, despite his chiding.

“Valencia was here.” Anakin cast around the apartment.

Obi-Wan frowned slightly. “How did you know?”

“I can still smell the sandalwood.” Anakin grinned. “It’s a very particular scent.”

Obi-Wan could not have pinpointed the exact smell, but he did agree that Valencia had her own unique scent.

“You two are very close.” Anakin’s smile became sly. “You like her.”

“She is a dear friend.” Obi-Wan’s tone was terse as he guessed where this conversation was leading. Why was it that his Padawan assumed any close relationship with a woman was romantic? Was this something common to teenagers? Obi-Wan scratched at his beard and restrained a sigh.

“As more than a friend.”

“Anakin, please.” Obi-Wan would hear no more on the subject. “She is the daughter of my former master. We are close, yes. But not in the way you assume.”

Valencia had become a vibrant and attractive young woman, but she was Obi-Wan’s friend only. He was a mentor figure to her, a man she could count on for advice. Qui-Gon’s death had drawn them closer, despite the fact that Valencia had not known her father nearly as well as Obi-Wan had.

In so many ways, the young woman reminded Obi-Wan of his former master. The way those dark blue eyes glittered with mischief when she had a daring idea. The half-smile when she was annoyed, but trying to keep her temper. The ferocity in her face when she took on the opening stance of Form IV. All things he could never disclose to her, knowing it would hurt to know how much she was like Qui-Gon, and how she had never had the chance to realise their similarities.

Anakin and Valencia had a somewhat teasing friendship. Valencia was almost five years older than him and was not afraid to mock him ruthlessly. It amused Obi-Wan to see their interactions. Despite her boldness, Valencia was popular among the other Padawans and Knights her own age. Obi-Wan had watched her hold court at lunch tables in the canteen, vivid and bright as any sun.

“She reminds you of Qui-Gon,” Anakin said quietly.

“In ways.” Qui-Gon had never made mention of Valencia’s mother, only to note that she was not a Jedi. Obi-Wan wondered if the young woman had inherited her golden blonde hair from her mother. “In other ways, she is different.”

He did not wish to dwell on Valencia, not when there were more important matters at hand. Discovering who was attempting to assassinate Padme Amidala was of the utmost concern, and so thoughts on Valencia were brushed aside. Both of them had work to do, and none of it involved Qui-Gon Jinn’s daughter.

“We must focus on the mission at hand. Senator Amidala has been placed under our protection.”

Obi-Wan did not know at the time just how long the night would be, could not have predicted what would unfold.

* * *

Valencia trained with the younglings twice a week, and she had to say, she always greatly anticipated it. After her wayward teenage years, she’d sought ways to ground herself, to fully commit herself to the Order. Her master had not believed she had needed punishment for rebelliousness, but rather a cause to dedicate herself to. Helping with training the younglings seemed fitting.

She was always assigned to the same clan of them, and there were several she couldn’t help but have a soft spot for – particularly Beck, a human child of almost six with a mop of black hair. He was spirited and enthusiastic, and never seemed to tire. As she observed him training, Valencia thought he would make a fine Padawan one day. Yet, she knew that she would never be allowed to claim him.

“Are you going for your Trials soon?” The boy asked, lowering his lightsaber and examining Valencia.

“I hope to be.” Valencia’s smile was strained, and she hoped that the child couldn’t tell his question dug at a sore spot. “But everyone does them at different times. Some Jedi, like my friend Aayla, become Knights very young. Some of them are older.”

“I’m going to be a Padawan like you one day,” Beck said, big blue eyes filled with such wonder that for a few moments, Valencia felt that the fact she wasn’t a Knight yet didn’t mean anything.

“Of course you are.” Valencia’s smile broadened, genuine this time. “Any Jedi Knight would be lucky to take you as their Padawan.”

“I want to be your Padawan!” Beck exclaimed. The words made Valencia’s stomach twist unpleasantly.

“I…I’m not a Knight yet. I don’t know if I’ll already have a Padawan by the time you’re of an age.”

“Oh.” Beck’s face crumpled, and that hurt even more. Valencia wanted to reach out and stroke his hair, but reined in her desire to be affectionate toward him. Jedi were not to show attachment, and sometimes she found it hard to remind herself of that.

“It’s a few years away yet, Beck. We will see.”

The child returned to his training, relieving Valencia. Cin Drallig, the Temple’s Battlemaster, approached her as she stood watching the younglings with her arms folded over her chest. She recalled the Battlemaster helping her hone her own lightsaber skills throughout the early stages of her life.

“He’s talented.”

“They all are.” Valencia’s tone was more clipped than she intended. She sighed and raked a hand through her blonde hair. “Apologies for my tone, Master Drallig. It’s been a long few days.”

She departed as the younglings finished up, taking a steadying breath and making a mental note to meditate once the day was done. Although training with the younglings thrilled her, it also led to thoughts on her own past, thoughts of how desperately she had tried to impress Qui-Gon when he had been in attendance.

Jedi were not meant to dwell on such things. Yet Valencia’s childhood, the consequences of her troubled teenage years, weighed heavily on her still. She wished more than ever that Rhesa was on Coruscant, or that Obi-Wan was not so deeply involved in such a dangerous mission. Aayla was a close friend, but she would not understand. Valencia struggled to shake off the feeling of being alone.

* * *

Rhesa Vandelay was still occupied in the Colonies. Valencia had wished to accompany her master, yet Rhesa had insisted that she needed more training on Coruscant. Despite being frustrated at her master’s decision, Valencia had respected it. When she received a summons from the Jedi Council, however, she found herself troubled. Had something befallen her master in the Colonies? Her mind whirred with potential scenarios as she headed into the Council chambers.

“Valencia Jinn.” It was Yoda who spoke as she entered and bowed stiffly before the assembled Council members. It was not often that the Council summoned her directly, and her rigidness did not fade. “Off-planet, your master is. An assignment for you, we have.”

“An assignment?” Valencia perked up, although she attempted to retain her calm. She was yet to go on a solo mission, and the thought excited her. Perhaps the Council saw what Rhesa did not – that Valencia might be ready for the Trials after all.

“Obi-Wan and Anakin are experiencing…some difficulties in their mission.” It was Mace Windu who spoke this time, his words caused Valencia’s stomach to lurch.

“Difficulties?” Valencia hoped that neither of them had been hurt and that nothing had happened to Senator Amidala.

“The assassin was tracked down by them, but was killed with a toxic dart by someone – a bounty hunter – before she could reveal information.”

“You want me to assist them?” Valencia asked uncertainly, beginning to sense where the conversation was going.

Mace inclined his head.

“Senator Amidala knew your father well before his death. As Obi-Wan and Anakin are assigned different tasks relating to this mission, the Council has decided that it would be wise for you to assist Obi-Wan in his search for answers while Anakin protects the Senator.”

“I would be delighted to.” Valencia inclined her head. Her first mission without her master. Perhaps it wasn’t a solo mission, but it was refreshing to think that she could work with other Jedi aside from Rhesa. Being assigned to help Obi-Wan was one of the best missions she could think of.

“Very good. Obi-Wan will be expecting you to report to him as soon as this meeting concludes.”

“Thank you, Masters.” Valencia bowed again, her body more relaxed this time. She couldn’t help but feel that when she was summoned by the Council, she was in trouble, even if that hadn’t been the case for many years.

She left the Council chambers with a smile on her face and a feeling of hope in her heart. Perhaps, after the mistakes she had made and the things she had done to set herself back over the years, this might be the time for her to work hard and prove herself worthy of Knighthood.


	2. Assignment

**Warnings: none**

“Obi-Wan.” The melodic woman’s voice made him turn away from the apartment’s window, away from the cityscape beyond. Valencia stood in the doorway with a warm smile across her lips, stepping into the apartment before he could respond. Her presence made the tension in his shoulders ease somewhat.

“Valencia.”

She strode over to him, eyes flicking to the view from the window. “I take it that the Council mentioned I was assigned to your mission.”

“I…yes, they did.” The message had come only minutes before, and he had not been expecting to see Valencia so soon after receiving it. Anakin and Padme had already departed for Naboo, leaving Obi-Wan to complete his part of the mission with Valencia’s assistance.

“Do you have anything on the assassin?” Valencia tilted her head to the side.

“I have a poison dart.” Obi-Wan sat down on the lounge, patting the spot beside him. Valencia crossed over to take a seat, folding her hands in her lap. “The one fired at the assassin who tried to kill the Senator. Another mercenary took her out before she could disclose any information. I suspect no ulterior motive other than an attempt to silence her, which succeeded.”

“Do we know anything more about the dart?” Valencia asked, extremely attentive.

“No.” Obi-Wan shook his head. The dart was a puzzle he was eager to solve. “The analysis droids couldn’t pick up anything. I’m going to see an old friend downtown, he might have some answers.”

Valencia nodded vehemently. “I’ll come, of course.”

He would be grateful for her company. Valencia had matured a lot throughout the past few years – becoming a compassionate and observant young woman. She often picked up on things that others overlooked. Obi-Wan would be grateful for her presence throughout the course of this mission, particularly as Anakin was away. He pinched the bridge of his nose at the thought of his Padawan, admittedly stressed at the idea of Anakin on his first solo mission.

“Are you alright?” Valencia rested a hand on his arm, but drew back the moment Obi-Wan removed his hand from his face.

“I just want to get to the bottom of this.” He offered her a strained smile. “I am sure you must feel the same.”

“In an odd way, it’s nice to have a mission outside of my master.” Valencia did not answer his smile with one of her own, instead averting her eyes. “I respect and admire her, but I think I am more advanced than she believes me to be.”

Obi-Wan knew Rhesa Vandelay well – the woman was perhaps a few years older than him, and had an almost maternal bond with her Padawan. It had been Rhesa who had convinced the Council that Valencia would grow out of her rebelliousness. She had been correct in that statement, and as such the bond between the two women had become stronger than ever. Yet Rhesa had been away from Coruscant for weeks, leaving Valencia to join Obi-Wan on his mission.

“I don’t doubt that you think so.” Obi-Wan rested a hand over hers. “We all think we are ready for the Trials until we actually experience them. Your time will come soon enough.”

Valencia glanced at their hands, her cheeks flushing. Obi-Wan removed his hand, worried that he may have made her uncomfortable. Valencia was not an affectionate person, whereas Obi-Wan was more prone to physical demonstrations of how much he cared. The young woman was a dear friend, yet he could help but realise that she seemed embarrassed around him at times.

Unable to fully ponder the mystery of Valencia’s feelings toward him, Obi-Wan forced his mind back to the mission at hand. It would do neither of them good to become distracted. Their relationship was a friendship, but it also had to remain professional this time – for the good of solving the assassination attempt.

* * *

Dex’s Diner was bustling with activity as Obi-Wan and Valencia entered. There had been a time when Valencia had avidly explored every section of Coruscant that she could, back when she was filled with a need for daring rather than respect for her position and the Jedi Order. Much had changed in those years, yet many parts of Coruscant had not.

“Someone here to see ya, honey!” The droid waitress yelled out as she glided toward the kitchen. “Jedi, by the looks of them.”

“Obi-Wan!” The Besalisk owner called out, prompting a smile from the Jedi as they headed for the counter. It always astonished Valencia that Obi-Wan had contacts outside of the Order – which of course he did, but he was so dedicated to the Order that sometimes she could forget that there were friendships and relationships to be had outside of that.

“Hello, Dex.”

“Take a seat, I’ll be right with you.”

“You want a cup of jawa juice?” The droid called out as Obi-Wan and Valencia headed over to one of the scarlet red booths.

“Yes, thank you,” Obi-Wan responded. Valencia just shook her head, sitting down and trying to brush away her feelings of unease. It wasn’t Dex or this place – it was memories still all too vivid. It seemed foolish now to think that there had been a time when she was so self-absorbed, so arrogant.

“Hey, old buddy.” Dex’s welcome was warm, drawing Valencia’s attention away from the window, and he and Obi-Wan embraced as friends. When they turned back to the booth, Obi-Wan gestured to Valencia, who offered a polite smile and inclined her head.

“This is my associate, Valencia Jinn.”

“So, my friends, what can I do for you?” Dex asked as he squeezed in across the booth from them. Valencia remained silent, content to let Obi-Wan do the talking. Her role here was simply to observe, and to provide an additional presence.

“You can tell me what this is.” Obi-Wan drew a small silver chip from his robes, handing it over to Dex. Valencia craned her neck forward to look too. She’d heard Obi-Wan talk about the dart, but had yet to see it in person.

“Well, what do you know.” Dex examined it, apparently impressed. The silver caught the glint of daylight. “I ain’t seen one of these since I was prospecting on Subterrel beyond the Outer Rim.”

“Can you tell me where it came from?” Obi-Wan asked, before turning his attention to the droid who’d returned with his jawa juice. “Thank you.”

“This baby belongs to them cloners. What you got here is a Kamino saber dart.”

Valencia glanced at Obi-Wan expectantly, but he appeared just as confused as her. She had visited many planets throughout her time, but Kamino was not a name she was even remotely familiar with.

Obi-Wan frowned. “I wonder why it didn’t show up in the analysis archives.”

“It’s these funny little cuts on the side that give it away,” Dex explained, tilting the chip slightly to show the Jedi what he meant. “Those analysis droids only focus on symbols. I should think that you Jedi should have more respect for the difference between knowledge and wisdom.”

“Well, if droids could think, there’d be none of us here, would there?” Obi-Wan took the dart back, his tone somewhat amused before becoming more serious. “Kamino. I’m not familiar with it. Is it in the Republic?”

Dex shook his head. “No, no. It’s beyond the Outer Rim. I’d say about twelve parsecs outside the Rishi Maze. Should be easy to find, even for those droids in your archives. These Kaminoans keep to themselves. They’re cloners, damn good ones too.”

“Cloners,” Obi-Wan repeated thoughtfully. “Are they friendly?”

Valencia wondered if he believed one of them could have come this far in to the Core in an attempt to assassinate Senator Amidala.

“Depends.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head to the side. “Depends on what, Dex?”

“On how good your manners are, and how big your pocketbook is.” Dex laughed, and Valencia got the drift immediately, eyebrows arched.

“So they favour the wealthy.” It was her first contribution to the conversation, causing Dex to turn his attention on her. Once upon a time, she had enjoyed being a shining star, enjoyed having all eyes on her. These days, it made her feel a little more self-conscious.

“That’s right, young miss. They ain’t cheap, that’s for sure.”

Valencia glanced at Obi-Wan, but he was still examining the dart, turning it over in his fingers. She wondered what he was thinking, because she believed that the Kaminoans had likely paid someone to do their dirty work for them. Only that didn’t make any sense, because what did Senator Amidala have to do with cloning?

* * *

The Jedi Archives had always fascinated Valencia. There was so much knowledge contained within it, and the idea that could research practically any obscure piece of information about the galaxy was a giddy prospect. Obi-Wan was busy studying a bust of a member of the Lost Twenty – Count Dooku, if memory served correctly.

“Did you call for assistance?” Jocasta Nu, Chief Librarian of the Jedi Archives, approached Obi-Wan, who extricated himself from his thoughts and turned his attention away from Dooku’s likeness to examine the elderly woman.

“Yes…yes, I did.”

“Are you having a problem, Master Kenobi?” Jocasta’s eyes didn’t miss Valencia, who offered the older woman a brief smile. There had been many months where Valencia had spent almost every day in these archives when she couldn’t train.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan responded, heading over to search in the star map system. “I’m looking for a planetary system called Kamino. It doesn’t show up in the archive charts.”

“Kamino…it’s not a system I’m familiar with.” Jocasta leaned over to peer over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, whilst Valencia maintained a slight distance. “Are you sure you have the right coordinates?”

Obi-Wan pointed at the screen. “According to my information, it should appear in this quadrant here, just south of the Rishi Maze.”

Jocasta shook her head slowly, her expression sympathetic. “I hate to say it, but it looks like the system you’re searching for doesn’t exist.”

“Impossible.” Obi-Wan glanced at the woman. “Perhaps the archives are incomplete.”

Jocasta drew herself up, taking offense to that. “If an item does not appear in our records, it does not exist.”

She strode off to help another student without another word or backward glance. Valencia raised her eyebrows at the old woman’s abruptness, but she was used to it. Jocasta was tough as an old boot, and was not one to easily tolerate fools.

“Here, let me.” Valencia ushered Obi-Wan from the seat and took his place. “There was a time when I was stuck in this place for months, when I wasn’t able to train.”

“Wasn’t able to train?” Obi-Wan sounded concerned, and Valencia’s stomach lurched as she realised how close she had come to a terrible truth.

“Injuries. Nothing serious, but they took time to heal.” Valencia focused her attention on the screen, scowling as she too was met with a blank space where the Kamino system was meant to be. “Force sake.”

“Nothing?” Obi-Wan asked, although Valencia easing herself out of the seat was answer enough.

“Perhaps we should ask the Council about it,” she suggested, shrugging her shoulders, “Surely if Dex has heard of it,  _ someone _ around here has to have as well.”

* * *

Valencia had desperately sought out Aayla, only to discover that her dear friend was currently off-planet. However, she had not been accompanied by Marion, who had been all too happy to spar with Valencia. The younger Padawan hadn’t stood much of a chance against the blonde, but their sparring finished in good spirits. Valencia was aware that her mission with Obi-Wan would likely take them to the Kamino system, once they discovered precisely where it was.

“How is your assignment?” Marion asked, tucking her own Padawan braid behind her ear. “I have only ever heard good things about Master Kenobi.”

“It goes well.” Valencia swept her blonde hair back as she tucked her lightsaber away. “He is an old friend, so it feels…easy. Almost natural.”

“Will you visit Beck before you leave?” Marion’s tone was soft, cautious. She had a fondness for the child also, but it was of a different sort to Valencia’s. Marion could well have been an older sister figure to Beck. Their playful bond never failed to make Valencia smile. Perhaps when Marion was Knighted, she would be the one to take Beck as her Padawan.

Valencia shook her head vigorously. “I don’t believe that to be smart, or appropriate.”

Marion bit her lip, and Valencia could tell that there was more that she wanted to say, but she wisely held her tongue. Valencia had not possessed Marion’s maturity and wisdom at her age. She had been a maelstrom of a girl, reckless and selfish, who had only remained in the Order because of the good graces of people like Rhesa Vandelay.

Aayla had just taken Marion as a Padawan when Valencia had almost been suspended from the Jedi Order. The girl knew more than most, but had the sense to keep personal matters to herself. Whilst Marion might indulge in gossip, secrets were something different completely, and Valencia respected her ability to know the difference.

“The younglings will miss you while you’re away.” Marion grinned. “They always talk about how much they enjoy their training sessions with you.”

Valencia swallowed hard. “I will miss helping them. I remember what it was like to be that age, as long ago as it must seem now.”

“Many years,” Marion agreed slyly.

“If Aayla arrives while I’m away…”

Marion nodded. “I’ll tell her you asked after her, of course. I’ll also relay your best wishes to your own master, when she returns. No one is about to forget you because you’re on a mission with Obi-Wan, you know.”

Valencia sighed dramatically, but knew Marion was right. She couldn’t put a finger on precisely why it made her nervous. She trusted Obi-Wan, and she knew that Rhesa would not mind she’d gone on a mission without her. So then why did Valencia feel so stressed about the prospect of it all?

* * *

Despite her best intentions, Valencia ended up going to one last training session with the younglings before she left for Kamino with Obi-Wan. This time she was there as an observer and not a participant, watchful from the sidelines as the children clumsily traded blows. It was truly astounding to see how much progress they had made over the past few months – or years, in many cases.

Valencia vaguely remembered what it was like to be a child, to be completely fearless. They didn’t overthink, didn’t concern themselves with making mistakes. They simply moved forward, something Valencia thought many Jedi hesitated to do over the years. She glanced over her shoulder as Obi-Wan approached.

“Marion said I might find you here.”

It hardly surprised Valencia. Marion had come to know her very well over the past few years, in some instances, better than she would have liked. Regardless, one only had to ask Marion or Aayla to determine where Valencia might be within the Temple at any given time. She had thought Obi-Wan might know her well enough to guess, but perhaps not.

Valencia laughed. “Of course she did. Did you find Kamino?”

“I did.” Obi-Wan folded his arms, lapsing into momentary silence as he too observed the younglings in their duels. “It seems to have been erased from the archives, although I cannot understand why.”

Valencia frowned. “Why would someone want to erase a star system? That makes no sense.”

“Perhaps we will have a better understanding once we reach Kamino.” Obi-Wan rested a hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention away from the younglings. “We will be leaving tonight. Make sure you have your things ready.”

She wondered if Obi-Wan observing the younglings reminded her of the first time they had met. Qui-Gon had visited with an eager Obi-Wan in tow. Valencia had been small – perhaps three or four – yet the memory was still vivid. She had already known that the man was her father and been delighted to see him, yet had been chastised for acting upon that. It was at that young age that Valencia had learned attachments were strongly discouraged.

Qui-Gon had interacted with Valencia several times before his untimely death. Although he had not shown attachment, he had shown affection, enough so that the thought of being his daughter made her proud. It was Obi-Wan that she’d interacted with more, a boy who’d helped her with her stances and her grip on a lightsaber when she felt too intimidated to pester one of the older Jedi for help. His patience had known no bounds, and for that she would be eternally grateful.

Beck raised a hand and waved to Valencia. She couldn’t help but smile, and waved back. The exchange earned a raise of eyebrows from her companion.

“Odd.” Obi-Wan sounded amused. “I never took you for the sort who liked children.”

Valencia didn’t have a response for that, but her smile faded.


	3. Kamino

**Warnings: none**

“Well, this is a dreary place,” Valencia remarked, gathering her cloak more tightly around herself as thunder rumbled overhead. The planet of Kamino appeared to be completely oceanic, with only few above-water settlements here and there. That wasn’t to mention the rain, which pattered down heavily on the top of their ship as she and Obi-Wan disembarked. The cold breeze cut like a knife, and a shiver ran up her spine as she followed the older Jedi in through the doors.

They were immediately approached by a tall, elegant and pale creature that Valencia assumed must be a Kaminoan. The being’s wide eyes examined them both, before settling upon Obi-Wan.

“Master Jedi. The Prime Minister is expecting you.” The voice was ethereal and distinctly female.

“I’m expected?” Obi-Wan exchanged a look with Valencia, who shrugged her shoulders. She was acutely aware that the thin braid in her hair marked her out as a Padawan, and so she should expect people to pay more deference to Obi-Wan than her.

“Of course. He is anxious to meet you. After all these years, we were beginning to think you weren’t coming.” The Kaminoan stepped back, gesturing for them to come inside. “Now please, this way.”

The interior of the facility was a complicated web of bright white corridors, and Valencia thought she might almost prefer the dark and dreary storm outside. She wrapped her dripping cloak more tightly around herself, wondering at the importance of this facility and Kamino in general. She couldn’t sense anything unusual in the Force.

The female Kaminoan led Obi-Wan and Valencia into a large chamber, where another Kaminoan rose to greet them from a white chair. Valencia decided it was best to let Obi-Wan do the talking – he was more experienced, and a far better negotiator than she was.

“May I present Lama Su, Prime Minister of Kamino.” She gestured to the Kaminoan approaching them, before turning back to Obi-Wan and Valencia. “And this is Master Jedi…”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.” He indicated Valencia, and she felt a rush of gratitude at not being completely invisible. “This is Padawan Valencia Jinn.”

“I trust you’re going to enjoy your stay.” Another two white chairs descended, and he gestured for the pair to sit. “Please.”

“Prime Minister, I was wondering if Valencia could have a tour of the facility while we talk.”

Obi-Wan’s suggestion made her snap her head around to look at him, but his eyes were fixed on the Kaminoan Prime Minister.

“But of course.” Lama Su turned to the female. “Taun We, if you would be so kind.”

Valencia opened her mouth to give an indignant reply, but Obi-Wan rested a hand on her shoulder. She realised that if he was getting her to go on a tour, he hoped she might find something. Valencia could only hope that he would relay what he discovered in the meeting when his business was concluded. Biting back the urge to contradict him – she wasn’t  _ his _ Padawan, after all – she followed Taun We out of the chamber.

“Is there somewhere to eat?” Valencia asked, feeling dazed and disorientated by the blinding brightness of the facility, “I’m starving.”

She wasn’t, but over the years, she’d found the most interesting place to observe people was in a cafeteria or the like. She and Aayla thoroughly enjoyed people-watching in some of the cafes on Coruscant when they had some down-time. When they’d been younger, they’d made up stories about them – where they were from, who they now. These days, they simply observed.

“Certainly.”

As Taun We led her through the corridors, something struck Valencia as odd about the people they passed. Some were Kaminoans, but others were humans like herself. No women, only men. It suddenly struck Valencia, as she followed Taun We into the cafeteria, that all of the men had the same face. Tanned skin, varying ages but it was still the same face. There could be no doubt about it – they were clones.

A shudder ran down Valencia’s spine and she headed up to get some food, slipping out some Republic credits to pay for her meal. When she turned around, she almost cannoned into a man. This one was different to the others – she didn’t know how, she could just sense it. He had a scowl on his face. He was perhaps in his mid-forties, and he did not appear impressed.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

She arched an eyebrow. “I could ask the same of you.”

Valencia was aware of how different she was. Among the Kaminoans and clones, a young woman in Jedi robes stood out. No wonder he’d approached her. She was a stranger – and it appeared this man was not particularly fond of strangers. Fortunately, Taun We glided over to diffuse any tension.

“Jango Fett, this is Valencia Jinn, a Jedi Padawan.” Taun We seemed to be extremely proficient with introductions. “Jango is the template for the clones.”

“Charmed.” He sounded anything but. His dark eyes were critical as they examined her, and Valencia lifted her chin and dared him to make a judgement. Something about him made her skin prickle, and her fingers itched to touch her lightsaber, but she didn’t want to give the wrong impression.

“Valencia is here with Master Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi to report on the clone army,” Taun We said, “I’m certain you will meet with him later.”

Jango’s smile was tight. “I look forward to it.”

Valencia watched him leave with a sense of deep unease. She felt that she needed to speak to Obi-Wan urgently, and see if they could match up what he had discussed with the Prime Minister with her own findings. Who was Jango Fett? Why had he been chosen as the clone template? Valencia knew she must be patient for all to be revealed.

* * *

It didn’t take Valencia long to be reunited with Obi-Wan. However, when she opened her mouth to greet her fellow Jedi, she realised that Obi-Wan was looking shaken, causing her to frown.

“So, what did the Prime Minister tell you?”

“We have to go, now. I’ll explain everything on the way.” Obi-Wan beckoned for Valencia to follow, and despite her frustration that she was not getting answers due to this urgent matter, she believed Obi-Wan when he said he would tell her. She could tell that they were headed for the doors leading to the forever dreary whether outside, and Valencia shrugged her cloak more tightly around herself and braced for the cold of the rain.

Obi-Wan and Valencia sprinted out onto the landing platform, where a bounty hunter appeared to be in the process of loading up his ship. She had the distinct feeling that this was Jango, although now was not the right time to ask Obi-Wan if her hunch was correct. A young boy on the ramp, probably no more than ten, immediately pointed an accusing finger in their direction.

“Dad! Look!”

Jango whirled around to examine the two Jedi. “Boba, get on board.”

Obi-Wan withdrew and ignited his lightsaber, and Valencia did the same as Jango withdrew twin guns and began shooting at them. Valencia gritted her teeth and deflected the blasts, as did her mentor. When Obi-Wan got almost close enough to strike him with the lightsaber, Jango activated his jetpack and soared upwards into the constant stream of rain.

Obi-Wan dropped and rolled as Jango shot at him from the sky. Valencia stepped back and waited for the bounty hunter to emerge from behind a pillar. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her purple lightsaber humming as she twirled it in circular motions. The ship began to swivel, making Valencia certain that Boba was responsible.

While they were distracted with the ship’s movement, Jango fired a rocket that hit the ground near Obi-Wan’s feet, sending him flying, his lightsaber clattering across the platform. Before the older Jedi could recover, Boba activated the ship’s guns and fired on him. Valencia immediately charged for the ship, determined to disable the guns, but she was knocked to the ground by an airborne Jango. She coughed and rolled onto her side, the wind having rushed out of her at the impact.

As Jango flew toward Obi-Wan, he jumped into the air and delivered a kick that knocked the bounty hunter rolling, his gun clattering to the ground. Obi-Wan struck Jango in the head with his leg, the pair beginning a brawl as Valencia eased herself to her feet. A quick glance at the ship told her that Boba wasn’t about to begin firing, which was just as well – she really didn’t want to have to incapacitate a child.

When Obi-Wan went for his fallen lightsaber, Jango took flight once again, wrapping a cord around Obi-Wan’s wrists that dragged him across the landing platform. Valencia immediately charged toward him, but he slid behind a pillar and used the cord to his advantage. He tugged hard so that Jango hit the platform, his jetpack hitting a nearby roof and exploding.

Obi-Wan sprinted over and kicked Jango before the bounty hunter could shoot him, sending Jango off the side of the platform. However, he didn’t appear to have thought this through, as the cord connecting them meant that Obi-Wan went over the edge as well. Valencia lowered her lightsaber and heaved a sigh, unable to refrain from rolling her eyes. She was certain that Obi-Wan would be fine, but really, he hadn’t thought the last move through at all.

Jango clambered back up onto the platform before Obi-Wan made his reappearance. Realising it was now up to her to apprehend him, Valencia twirled her lightsaber and charged. Jango dodged the first strike, spinning and striking Valencia hard enough to send her to the ground. Her head spun and there was the metallic taste of blood in her mouth as she eased her aching limbs back up. She was too late – Jango had already entered his ship.

By the time Obi-Wan returned to the landing platform, the ship was already taking off. Valencia glanced at him with despair, but Obi-Wan removed a tracking beacon from his robes and threw it onto the ship’s hull. She smiled faintly at his ingenuity.

“Nice move.”

“We need to follow him.” Obi-Wan brushed off Valencia’s praise, making her smile fade slightly as they headed back toward the ship. Stepping onto the ship, her first priority was to get out of her saturated robes and into something dry before she developed a shiver.

* * *

Valencia swept her wet hair into a ponytail and out of her eyes. She was grateful for the opportunity to have donned the spare, dry robes they had brought along with them. When she stepped into the cockpit, Obi-Wan was flicking the controls. Leaning over his shoulder, she examined the glowing light on the radar that represented the tracking beacon Obi-Wan had attached to Jango’s ship.

“That could have gone better,” she said dryly, “At least we can track him.”

She slipped into the co-pilot’s seat, and she surveyed the vast expanse of space laid out before them. When she had been small, Valencia had always dreamed of travelling the stars. She thought if she wasn’t a Jedi, she would have been some sort of space explorer. Even in her current occupation, she knew that once she was Knighted, she would have many opportunities to travel to worlds other than Coruscant. As it was, her experience with other planets was sorely lacking.

“I’d forgotten you use Form IV.” Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet. “The Aggression Form.”

The remark caught Valencia by surprise. “Well, why wouldn’t I?”

“No reason, it’s just that…” For a moment, Obi-Wan lapsed into contemplative silence, before his eyes met hers. “I used to use Form IV too. So did your father. After he was killed…I changed to Form III.”

It was something Valencia truly had not known, and she didn’t really have a response for the comment. She had often been told by many – Obi-Wan included – that she was like her father. She wondered if Obi-Wan thought that one day, she might die in a similar fashion to Qui-Gon. It was a chilling thought, and one that had no place in the peaceful Republic.

Yet…was it peaceful? More and more, the Jedi Order were beginning to acknowledge the disturbance in the Force, the dark side growing stronger. To Valencia, trouble was inevitable. It was not a matter of if, but when.

“I…I wasn’t aware.”

“I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan reached up to rub his temples. “It’s been a long and tiring day. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“I don’t mind,” Valencia responded honestly. She had not known Qui-Gon overly well, and so it was always intriguing to learn about him through Obi-Wan’s experiences. She had still been a kid when Qui-Gon had been killed by a mysterious Sith Lord. Whatever she knew about him was through other people.

Once, Valencia had been jealous that Obi-Wan had been closer with Qui-Gon than she ever had been – but after speaking to Rhesa and meditating, she acknowledged that there was no cause for envy. Rhesa had been a mother figure to her, as Qui-Gon had been a father figure to Obi-Wan. Perhaps she hadn’t had a connection with her birth father, yet that didn’t mean he hadn’t cared.

“He mentioned you before he died,” Obi-Wan stated, as if sensing Valencia’s train of thought, “I remember speaking to you about it afterwards. He was proud of you.”

“I don’t think he would have been proud of the choices I made since,” Valencia whispered, her words tainted with the shame of the mistakes that had almost gotten her expelled from the Order. Certainly Obi-Wan must know how close she’d come to being thrown out, even if he didn’t know why.

“Everything happens for a reason.” Obi-Wan rested a hand on her shoulder. “Even if we don’t see it at the time. Whatever happened, it’s in the past.”

_ Except it’s not _ . Valencia refrained from saying those fateful words. Her actions would always be with her. She could live with that, but she was still working on dispelling the shame.

* * *

Staying with the ship was not Valencia’s idea of a good time, however this was a mission and not one of the club raves she’d attended in secret on Coruscant during her teenage years. If Obi-Wan believed it best for her to remain with the ship while he conducted his investigation, she would do so no matter her irritated feelings about it.

They had managed to avoid Jango’s attempts to destroy them leading up to their landing on Geonosis. They had no idea whether the bounty hunter was aware of their survival, however Valencia knew that pressing the matter wasn’t a wise idea. When Obi-Wan returned, Valencia was on her feet and down the ramp in moments, eager to discover what he had learned.

“Well? What happened?”

“I didn’t find Jango Fett,” Obi-Wan admitted, raking a hand through his hair, “However, I did manage to find someone unexpected – Count Dooku. It would appear that he is behind the Separatist movement.”

Valencia knew Dooku by name only. He had left the Jedi Order when she had been a young teenager. It startled her that a former Jedi could fall so far.

“What are we going to do?”

“There’s too many of them for us to take on alone.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “We need to send a transmission alerting the Jedi Council to our findings here. This is bigger than we’d ever anticipated.”

Valencia wrapped her cloak more tightly around her despite the dry desert heat of Geonosis. Her eyes scanned the horizon for movement as Obi-Wan sent a transmission to Anakin. Apparently, he was on Tatooine – although neither of them knew why, for he and Senator Amidala had been sent to her home planet of Naboo. Nonetheless, there wasn’t the signal strength for Obi-Wan to transmit to Coruscant, so Anakin was his best bet.

“You might want to hurry,” Valencia warned.

Obi-Wan glanced at her, arching an eyebrow. “I’m going as fast as I can.”

Valencia spun around at a familiar sound, noticing several droidekas rolling toward them. She ignited her lightsaber, however before she could make a move, someone had grabbed her by the waist and pressed the cold tip of a blaster to her head. She struggled, before going still once she heard the blaster charging up.

“Obi-Wan, run,” she urged.

He drew his own lightsaber. “I’m not leaving.”

“You’re both coming with me.” It was Valencia’s captor, now evident as Jango Fett.

She scowled. “Get that blaster away from my head and I will.”

“No.” Jango shoved her forward, keeping his blaster pointed at the back of her head in case she tried anything stupid. He kept a firm grip on her shoulder as he marched her in through one of the many caverns on Geonosis. This one in particular led into widening corridors, at the end of which a tall white-haired man in dark robes waited for them. He was oddly familiar, although Valencia couldn’t recall if she’d ever met him. He looked old, but no less elegant for his advanced years.

“Ah, Jango.” The man had a deep baritone voice and contemptuous dark eyes. Something about his demeanour made her certain that this must be Count Dooku.

“As you requested.”

“Jedi, I see.” Dooku surveyed them both closely, before turning his attention solely on Valencia, a frown creasing the lines of his face. “I recognise something about you, girl. Come closer.”

Valencia didn’t deem that wise, and she stayed where she was until Jango shoved her in the back, sending her stumbling forward. Dooku gripped her chin and tilted her face upwards so he could see her better in the dimness. She forced herself not to react, despite her initial urge being to spit in his face.

“Yes, I see it now. Qui-Gon’s daughter. Valencia, isn’t it?”

Valencia’s eyes narrowed. “If you expect me to recognise you, you’ll be disappointed.”

Dooku released her, turning his attention on her companion. “And Obi-Wan Kenobi. You have grown.”

Obi-Wan was likewise stubbornly quiet as Dooku examined the pair of them. Valencia was waiting to discover how he knew so much about them, but fortunately Dooku was quick to explain.

“Qui-Gon was once my apprentice as you were once his. I miss him. I could use his help right now.”

“He’d never join you,” Valencia snapped, prickling with annoyance at the mere suggestion.

“Don’t be so sure,” Dooku chided her, ignoring the fierce glower on the young woman’s face, “If he knew the truth as I did…”

“He’d change his mind?” Obi-Wan sounded mildly amused.

“What if I told you there was a Sith Lord corrupting the Senate?” Dooku examined their doubtful expressions. “You don’t believe me?”

“No.” Obi-Wan’s voice was flat, all mirth gone. Valencia likewise thought that Dooku was lying. They would know if there was a Sith Lord in the Senate, surely. He was attempting to feed them lies in an effort to gain their allegiance, and she was determined that it wasn’t going to work.

“We could defeat the Sith together,” Dooku stated, to which Valencia shook her head fervently. She didn’t believe that was what Dooku wanted at all. He had an ulterior motive, they just didn’t know what it was yet.

“I’m not going to work with you,” Obi-Wan retorted.

“Then you will die. She will die.” Dooku gestured to Valencia. “Jango, take her away, I wish to speak with him alone.”

The words chilled Valencia as Jango seized hold of her arm and dragged her away. What was it that he wished to say to Obi-Wan without her hearing? She was seized with a feeling of dread, and could only hope that Obi-Wan’s message to Anakin had gone through. If not, they were certainly doomed.


	4. Battle of Geonosis

**Warnings: none**

The cell in which Valencia had been unceremoniously tossed and chained up was dark and hot. She closed her eyes and tried to meditate, pretending she was back on Coruscant. Yet the heat and the sound of insects made it difficult to believe that was where she really was, and she found herself struggling with her restraints. There was a violet energy field around them, likely to prevent her ability to use the Force to free herself.

The door hissed open and Count Dooku strode in. Valencia’s frustration bled into apprehension as he approached, circling her, observing in silence. She lifted her chin and glared, as if that would somehow disguise how uncomfortable she was. Valencia had never enjoyed being the centre of attention.

“It was a shame, what happened to your father.”

Valencia knew that his goal was to bait her, and she clenched her jaw and didn’t allow it to happen. He wanted her to lose her temper and lash out. She was determined to prove she was better than that.

“Obi-Wan is a fine Jedi, much more conservative than his former master.” Dooku paused to throw Valencia a meaningful look. “Although, Obi-Wan wasn’t his first apprentice, or even his second.”

Valencia frowned. She knew that her father’s first apprentice had been Feemor, now a Jedi Master. Yet Obi-Wan had certainly been Qui-Gon’s second, so she didn’t understand what Dooku was attempting to imply. Her confusion seemed to be precisely what he was searching for, because his thin lips curved upwards into a triumphant smile.

“The man’s name was Xanatos, and he died to evade capture by your father and Obi-Wan.”

The name was somewhat familiar to Valencia. If she managed to escape this situation, she would have to do some research. If he was a failed apprentice, it made sense that things were kept relatively quiet concerning him. She kept her expression neutral, not wanting Dooku to think he was getting under her skin.

“I can’t say I’ve heard of him.”

“Xanatos died two years after you were born. He fell to the dark side.”

Valencia was rendered speechless. No wonder Qui-Gon had never spoken of him – Xanatos had not simply left the Order, he had fallen from the light. It was something Valencia had always feared, especially when she had almost faced expulsion from the Order. The good word of Rhesa Vandelay had been part of what had saved her, although with Valencia’s own fierce dedication.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked.

“So you may understand that the Jedi are not all they seem.” Dooku continued to pace. “There are many secrets and lies they would have kept from you. Xanatos and his demise was just one piece of the puzzle.”

She knew that he was trying to corrupt her, to turn her away from the light. Dooku too seemed to have fallen to the dark, although he would not admit it. Was he a Sith Lord? Or was he something else? Valencia’s head was beginning to throb as she tried to process all of this new information.

“I’m not joining you,” she said vehemently, “Neither is Obi-Wan. We see through your lies, Dooku. If that means we will die for it, so be it.”

Death was something that Valencia had never much dwelled upon. It was a part of life, and it meant becoming one with the Force. Her training had always meant she was supposed to see death as inevitable and not to be feared, but the idea of it still filled Valencia with trepidation. How she died mattered. She didn’t want to die on this dusty desert of a planet, but what choice did she have?

* * *

Valencia couldn’t believe she was going to die on a planet as dusty as Geonosis. She squinted against the bright sunlight as she was chained to one of the poles in the arena, and she raised her eyebrows at Obi-Wan’s calm posture. She had been surprised to see Anakin and Padme as well, however when she learned that they had come to rescue her and Obi-Wan, the surprise was infinitely less. Anakin never could stay out of trouble.

“Let the executions begin!” The Geonosian Prime Minister called out. The crowd began to go wild as three different gates opened around the arena. Valencia took a deep breath and forced herself to focus. Her gaze flicked between the three creatures – the lion-like nexu, the bull-like reek and the crustacean-like acklay. None of them looked particularly friendly.

Valencia glanced across at the others, raising her eyebrows when she noticed that Padme was using her chain to pull herself to the top of her post. The woman might not be a Jedi, but she was certainly good in sticky situations.

She had bigger concerns – the acklay gave an unearthly wail and made its way towards her and Obi-Wan. It charged at him, knocking the post flat and sending Obi-Wan sprawling. He rolled out of the way as the acklay crunched down on the chain, freeing Obi-Wan from the post.

Valencia tugged hard at her chains to no avail. The acklay noticed her movement and charged, and Valencia leapt as far as she could, causing the creature to stumble over the chain, breaking it in the process. She grinned, but immediately noticed Obi-Wan attracting the creature’s attention to draw it away from her.

A sudden shift in the Force made Valencia pause, and she looked up at the archducal box where Count Dooku and the others stood to see Mace Windu ignite his lightsaber, right in front of Jango Fett. The bounty hunter started, but Dooku simply smiled as if the Jedi’s presence was a minor inconvenience.

“Party’s over, Dooku.”

“Brave, but foolish, my old Jedi friend. You’re impossibly outnumbered.”

The sound of droids marching filled the arena, and caused Windu to turn his attention away from Dooku. The Genosians because to flee, getting up and flying off. All around the arena, more Jedi ignited their lightsabers. Rhesa Vandalay walked over to her Padawan, tossing Valencia her confiscated lightsaber. She smiled gratefully and her master winked, before they turned to prepare themselves for the onslaught of droids.

During the fight, Valencia couldn’t stop checking on Obi-Wan. It wasn’t enough to break her concentration or hinder her, but there was no doubt she was concerned about him. She didn’t know why – she was a skilled fighter and a much more talented Jedi than her. Just when their odds appeared to be getting slim, Padme pointed up at the sky.

“Look!”

Several gunships descended on the arena, and they were not only occupied by Jedi – Valencia was startled to see the same clones they’d viewed at Kamino. It would appear that the Senate had decided to accept having a clone army after all. Although uncertain how she felt about the decision, Valencia was definitely grateful for the extra help. She charged over to the same gunship as Obi-Wan, Anakin and Padme, gripping the handlebar tightly as the gunship launched back into the air.

A Genosian speeder raced past. Anakin jabbed a finger in its direction.

“It’s Dooku, go after him!”

“Yes, sir.” The clone piloting the gunship immediately made a beeline for the fleeing Count. Valencia knew that they could not allow him to escape, not considering what chaos he was capable of causing. The gunship lurched as it was fired at by enemy craft. Valencia clung on tightly, but Padme cried out and fell, rolling down through the sand dunes. The fall wasn’t bad enough to kill her, but Anakin was horrified.

“Padme! Put the ship down!”

“Don’t let your personal feelings get in the way,” Obi-Wan chastised, “We have a job to do.”

“He’s right,” Valencia interjected. She could sense Anakin’s frustration. “Padme’s tough. She’ll be fine. But you know she’d be angry if you chose to rescue her over stopping Dooku.”

Their words seemed enough to calm him, and Anakin took a deep breath and nodded. Valencia playfully punched him in the arm, and he even cracked a smile. Dooku’s speeder docked into a Genosian port tower. The three Jedi jumped off the gunship, ready to face their nemesis.

“You’re going to pay for all the Jedi you killed today, Dooku,” Anakin spat.

“We move in together,” Obi-Wan suggested, “You on the…”

“I’m taking him now!” Anakin exclaimed, throwing aside all restraint and immediately charging at Dooku. The young apprentice did not fare well – Force lightning crackled out from Dooku’s fingertips, and he easily batted Anakin against the wall. Deeply concerned for her friend, Valencia stepped up next, igniting her purple lightsaber.

“You are as ever your father’s daughter, Valencia.”

Dooku raised his hand and she gripped her lightsaber tightly, prepared for another onslaught of lightning. Instead she felt a pressure around her throat, coughing as she realised that he was Force choking her. Obi-Wan glanced between the fallen Anakin and the choking Valencia.

“Let her go, Dooku.”

Dooku ignored him, and Valencia felt everything start to spin. Her vision was swimming and things started going dark. The lightsaber dropped from her fingers and she was unconscious before she even hit the metal floor panels.

* * *

Valencia woke to the unmistakable smell of the med bay. She had been there enough times in her youth to know the distinctive, sterile scent. She unglued her eyelids and reached out a hand to tentatively touch her neck. Her throat felt incredibly tender. The last memory she had was of Dooku choking her, and she immediately sat up in a panic, wondering how things had gone since.

“You can relax.” Obi-Wan sat beside her bed. He looked tired, and she wondered how long he had been waiting for her to wake. The knowledge that he had been there was comforting to her. “We didn’t defeat Dooku, but nor did he defeat us. War has broken out across the galaxy. You’re safely back on Coruscant.”

Valencia sighed heavily and leaned back against the pillows. Even her exhalation of breath was enough to make her throat ache. The medical droid attending to her pricked her with a needle, causing her to yelp. She shook her head at Obi-Wan’s amused smile. They both knew Valencia had never much liked needles.

“Where’s Anakin?”

“He’s escorting Senator Amidala to Naboo.” Obi-Wan raked a hand through his hair. Valencia suspected she was not the only one who sensed there was romantic interest between Anakin and Padme. However, Anakin needed to be mindful of his duties, and he was admittedly not yet twenty. It seemed awfully young to Valencia, despite knowing she was only a few years older.

“I’m glad to see you are well,” Valencia blurted out, despite knowing that Obi-Wan had likely been the least injured out of them. He had a calmer temper than Anakin, and he was more rational than Valencia.

“I was more concerned about you. How does your throat feel?”

“Sore,” Valencia admitted. Talking was painful, but it was worth it to commune with Obi-Wan. “How is my master?”

“She is doing well.” Obi-Wan sighed. “Although I must tell you, she has already gone off-world. With the Clone Wars coming into effect, she and her team have been shipped out already.”

“Oh.” Valencia found it difficult to disguise her disappointment. She had rather hoped that she would have the chance to prove herself. Again and again, she felt that she was ready for the Trials, but if Rhesa didn’t even think she was ready for combat, then what was the point? She tried her best to hide the fact that she was crestfallen, but Obi-Wan had known her for long enough that he saw right through it.

“It’s alright, Val. Your chance will come.”

“When, Obi-Wan?” she demanded, wincing when raising her voice hurt her throat even more. “I just want a chance, and I feel that I can’t even have that. I know I’ve been in trouble before when I was younger, but I’ve worked so hard since then.”

“Soon.” Obi-Wan rested a hand over hers. “I promise.”

Valencia looked down at their hands and couldn’t quite suppress the heat that rose in her cheeks. She didn’t move her hand away though. The contact was soothing. Obi-Wan had a calming presence. A slow and steady smile curved the corners of her lips as she glanced up into his earnest eyes.

“I believe you.”

“Good.” Obi-Wan removed his hand from hers, and she observed the loss of contact with slight chagrin. “Now, you need rest. Your throat still hasn’t healed completely from what Dooku did.”

“Can you stay?” Valencia asked, the softness of her voice revealing a vulnerability she didn’t normally show others. “I could really use the company.”

Obi-Wan appeared a little surprised by the request, his eyes widening slightly, but he nodded.

“Of course I can.”

* * *

When Valencia entered the Sparring Arena several days later, Aayla and Marion were locked in fierce combat. It had been mere days since the Battle of Geonosis, an event in which Aayla had been actively involved, yet she barely broke a sweat as she fended off her apprentice’s strikes. Marion’s teeth were gritted and her hair lank with sweat as she spun to avoid her master’s retaliation.

“You’re too desperate.” Aayla stepped back, circling Marion. “You’re on the attack and it’s not working for you. Switch to defensive.”

Valencia sat down and crossed her legs as she watched Marion. It was hard to take criticism, as she well knew, but Marion did so without complaint. She changed up her stance to adopt a more defensive position. Valencia examined their styles as she watched them fight. Aayla moved like a dancer, fluid and quick. Marion’s movements were more jarring, short and sharp.

They two exchanged blows but as always, it took little time for Aayla to disarm her apprentice. There would come a day when Marion would gain the upper hand, yet Valencia couldn’t see that happening for some time yet.

“Are you done showing off, Aayla?”

Her friend spun to face her, a grin lighting up her face. Marion’s expression was more solemn as she deactivated her lightsaber.

“Valencia.”

“I thought we could talk.”

“I should go and meditate,” Marion said immediately.

“You’re welcome to stay,” Valencia offered, knowing how it could feel to be rejected from social situations.

“It’s fine.” Marion’s smile was small but genuine. Before Valencia could insist, she swept her hair back and departed the Sparring Arena.

“What was it you wanted to discuss?”

“Just Geonosis.” Valencia shook her head slowly. She was oddly crestfallen at the idea that she wouldn’t be working as closely with Obi-Wan anymore, although she wasn’t certain if mentioning that to Aayla would be a wise idea. Obi-Wan was Valencia’s good friend, but he was not her master. No one could ever replace Rhesa.

“What specifically about Geonosis?” Aayla asked, sitting down beside Valencia. “The fact that it’s caused a full-scale galactic war?”

There was certainly that, but that wasn’t the matter Valencia wished to discuss. How was she meant to explain her predicament to her best friend? Aayla had always been a role model, the paragon of what it meant to be a Jedi. Valencia was far from touching her friend’s shining example.

“No,” Valencia admitted, “It’s not that part of it.”

“Then what?” Aayla persisted.

“It’s Obi-Wan.” Valencia let her blonde hair fall into her face, ashamed of the heat that rose in her cheeks. She was not a woman tempted by the prospect of romance, and she didn’t know whether her feelings for Obi-Wan were romantic exactly. Yet they were changing, no longer the certain comfort of friendship she’d experienced during her lifetime.

“I can understand you admiring him.” Aayla nodded knowingly. “We both grew up with the tales of how he avenged his master’s death by killing the Sith Lord on Naboo.”

“It’s not even that I want to be like him,” Valencia admitted, heaving a frustrated sigh. “It’s that…I don’t know what I am to him anymore, or what he is to me.”

“Val.” Aayla placed a hand over her friend’s, and although her voice was soft, her words were firm. “You need to remember what you both are. You’ve made your share of mistakes, and I fear that the next one could get you expelled.”

Valencia knew that Aayla was right. She couldn’t afford to take any risks. Even if people merely believed there was something going on between herself and Obi-Wan, it might be grounds for her being removed from the Order. She had to focus on her career as a Jedi – especially with war looming. Battle was imminent, and Valencia knew the time was coming where she had to fight.


	5. Master and Apprentice

**Warnings: none**

Obi-Wan couldn’t remember the last time the Jedi Temple had been so full of nervous, chaotic energy. As the Clone Wars were fought across the galaxy, the most familiar faces were no longer on Coruscant. Anakin was currently undergoing the Jedi Trials in the hope that he would be Knighted – something that Obi-Wan had, rather guiltily, kept from Valencia. He knew the young woman would take Anakin getting Knighted before her negatively.

It was only a matter of time before he was sent on assignment. Obi-Wan could sense that things were going to change in the Order. They were peacekeepers, not soldiers. Yet considering everything happening, their role was forced to change. They were adapting to suit what the galaxy needed, and he had to accept that, even if it made him feel uneasy.

“Try again.”

The familiar female voice made Obi-Wan pause, peering into the Sparring Arena. The large area was almost empty, aside from a blonde woman and a dark-haired little boy. He recognised them instantly – Valencia and one of the younglings, Beck. There was a soft smile playing about her lips as she corrected the boy’s grip on his training lightsaber.

Valencia’s ease with children was one of the things that astonished Obi-Wan about her. She was spirited, independent and vibrant, much like her father. Qui-Gon had never mentioned who Valencia’s mother was, but apparently, she had not been against surrendering her daughter to the Jedi. There was something about the softness which Valencia displayed around Beck, a vulnerability that few ever saw.

Obi-Wan leaned against the wall, folding his arms, content in silent observation. The boy lashed out with his lightsaber, swift as a serpent. Valencia parried the blows more slowly than she usually would have. Beck was all intense concentration, his small face scrunching up as he tried to anticipate Valencia’s next move.

“Better!” Valencia grinned as the boy demonstrated a series of moves. “You’re a natural.”

“Thank you,” Beck lowered his lightsaber, suddenly demure. He was a quiet boy, at least around Obi-Wan, but seemed to light up in Valencia’s presence. He could not blame him – Valencia was warmth and brightness, serious when she needed to be, playful when she was feeling mischievous.

“Excellent work.”

Both Valencia and Beck started at Obi-Wan’s statement. Her expression was guilty, as though she had been caught doing something dishonest rather than merely training the boy. Her cheeks were red with exertion, her blonde hair falling out of its practical ponytail. Obi-Wan decided she looked good that way.

“Master Kenobi.” Valencia swept her Padawan braid out of her face. “Beck and I were just…”

He held a hand up. “You don’t need to explain yourself, Val. It’s fine. You were just training.”

“I think I’m ready for my next training session.” Beck beamed up at Valencia. There was such admiration in the child’s eyes. It was clear to Obi-Wan that he revered and respected Valencia, however she appeared uncomfortable with it, for reasons that were perplexing to him.

“Good.” Valencia reached out and ruffled his dark hair, before swiftly drawing her hand back. “Off you go. I know for a fact that you’re meant to have meditation now.”

Beck did not need to be told twice. He skipped from the Sparring Arena, a spring in his step. Obi-Wan watched him go with amusement, but Valencia appeared guarded. He could sense cautiousness emanating from her. She was typically so open with him, and he could not help but wonder at this sudden change.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course.” Valencia strode over, a strained smile crossing her lips. “What would make you think otherwise?”

He was pleased that she had healed, and suspected part of her tension was born of frustration. She had not yet been permitted to join her master, Rhesa Vandelay, in combat. Despite her best intentions, Obi-Wan knew Valencia well enough to realise she took it as a personal slight.

“You seem…unlike yourself.”

“Things are changing.” Valencia shrugged her shoulders, scooping up her bottle of water and taking several deep gulps. “Perhaps we need to adapt to change with them. I’m simply unsure of my place in all of this.”

“Your chance will come.” Obi-Wan rested a hand on Valencia’s shoulder. It seemed so long ago she had been the spirited teenage girl who he’d taken aside to tell about Qui-Gon’s death. She had accepted it more readily than he’d anticipated, a trait she’d continued to demonstrate over the years. Valencia was more adaptable than most.

“I keep getting told that.” Valencia drew away from him, frustration colouring her tone.

He could understand it was difficult not to compare herself to others around her own age, such as her friend Aayla. Obi-Wan had been only a year older than Valencia was now when he’d been Knighted. Valencia was not a jealous woman by nature, but comparisons could be drawn even by the most level-headed of people.

“Perhaps you need to meditate too,” Obi-Wan suggested. He knew it could be helpful when he was feeling on edge. They all had feelings, it was how they dealt with those feelings that made them worthy of their positions within the Jedi Order. Valencia’s struggles to cope with hers, as well as her stint of teenage rebellion, were perhaps among the reasons she had not yet achieved the role of Knight.

Valencia exhaled deeply, nodding. “I think you might be right.”

“You can talk to me about anything, you know that, don’t you?” Obi-Wan folded his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows pointedly. “I’m one of your oldest friends, Valencia. If you need help, I’m here.”

“Thank you,” Valencia avoided meeting his eyes. “But I think once I meditate, I’ll be alright.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t certain he believed that, but he said nothing as he watched her leave the Sparring Arena. There was something going on with Valencia, he just didn’t know what it was yet. The Force moved in strange ways about her, indicating that she was experiencing some turbulent emotions – which she would need to rein in if she was ever to undergo the Trials.

* * *

Raised voices from the Sparring Arena drew Obi-Wan’s attention after a briefing with the Council. Peering in, he noticed that several of the younglings were whispering together, eyes wide as saucers. One or two of them were crying. Valencia was in rapid conversation with Cin Drallig. Her body posture was tense. Frowning, Obi-Wan approached the pair with the distinct impression that something had gone amiss during a training session with the younglings.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Beck.” Valencia sucked in a deep breath, her eyes flicking upwards. They gleamed with unshed tears. “He was injured.”

“He will be fine, Valencia,” Cin assured her, patting her arm. He looked to Obi-Wan. “The boy was hit in the head with a practise lightsaber. A nasty cut and possibly some bruising, but certainly not fatal.”

Valencia raked her hands through her hair. Obi-Wan could not place the last time he’d seen her so frantic. In his mind, the pieces began to shift. Valencia’s furtiveness when it came to training Beck, her insistence that he couldn’t be her Padawan one day, how upset she was over a minor injury.

Obi-Wan examined her face and it was there he saw the truth, as he recalled the similarity of Beck’s features to hers. Taking her arm, he gently led her from the Sparring Arena. This was not something he wished to discuss with others around, especially as he believed Cin had not ascertained the truth. The words felt strange as they passed his lips.

“You’re his mother.”

Valencia’s eyes fluttered closed, tears spilling down her cheeks. There were many things Obi-Wan associated with his master’s daughter, but motherhood was not one of them. It was not unknown for Jedi to have children – Valencia herself was evidence of that – but it certainly was not common. He wondered what she had been thinking, knowing of her own heritage.

Obi-Wan did the maths in his head. Valencia had just turned 24; Beck was six. She would have been eighteen when he was born, little more than a child herself. It had been during her stage of teenage rebellion. He recalled her and Rhesa leaving Coruscant for several months. Her master had known, and likely the Council too. Valencia had birthed her son in secret, and now he was training to become a Jedi like his mother.

“Yes,” she whispered. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, daring him to offer commentary. There was only question on Obi-Wan’s mind, and he voiced it as gently as he dared.

“Who is his father?”

“Don’t ask me that.” Valencia shook her head fervently, eyes sparking with a mixture of anger and fear. “Don’t ever ask me that again.”

“Alright,” Obi-Wan promised. If she did not wish to speak of the matter, he certainly wasn’t going to push her. He did feel stung that she had not trusted him enough to tell him – this had occurred several years before, and it wasn’t until now that Obi-Wan had even suspected anything. Valencia’s emotions gave her away, and would need to be tempered. Attachment to Beck would do neither of them any good.

“I know you probably don’t think much of me right now.” Valencia reached up to wipe her eyes. “I’m letting my feelings get the better of me. Not to mention that you didn’t even know about Beck until now.”

Obi-Wan rested his hands on her shoulders. “It was your secret to keep.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you.” Valencia looked up at him, and there was something he couldn’t quite place there, a vulnerability. She displayed it rarely, but she had been open with him before. Suddenly, she looked very young. “It was that I was ashamed.”

Obi-Wan wanted to ask again about Beck’s father, about whether he had done anything untoward to Valencia. He knew the question would not be met with a positive response, and so he bit back the urge to ask. This was Valencia’s business. If she chose to confide in him, he would be there to listen. Until then, he wouldn’t ask about things she had specifically told him not to.

“I would never pass judgement for something like that.”

“I was scared.” Valencia chewed at her bottom lip. “I should have trusted you. I just didn’t want to be scolded for my choice to keep him. My master was so good about it, and the Council gave me the ultimatum that if the baby was Force sensitive, I would have to give him up to them immediately. And…I did.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t a parent. He couldn’t even remember his own life before he’d become a youngling. Yet he imagined it must have been so hard for teenage Valencia to hold her newborn son in her arms and know that he would be taken from her. She had chosen that fate, and yet still she could not fully let go of her maternal bond with Beck. As far as Obi-Wan was aware, the boy did not know she was his mother.

“You did the right thing.”

“Did I?” Valencia drew away from him, her expression accusing. “The cycle repeated. Qui-Gon surrendering me, me surrendering Beck.”

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. “What else could you have done?”

“I…I don’t know,” Valencia admitted. Obi-Wan was under the impression that she didn’t have anyone else she trusted enough to give the boy to. Clearly, whatever the relationship with Beck’s father, he was no longer in Valencia’s life. Obi-Wan sensed that he wasn’t a Jedi.

“You are doing well,” Obi-Wan assured her, “But you need to learn to let go. Beck is no longer your concern. You’ve become too close to him.”

Valencia nodded slowly. He could tell that she was processing his words and realising what she had to do. Training with the boy was one thing, but becoming so upset about him being injured meant that Valencia had become too close emotionally.

Obi-Wan leaned in and kissed the top of her head. Her hair smelled floral, but not overpoweringly so. She was one of his closest friends, and he didn’t wish to see her expelled from the Jedi Order. He would help her however he could. When he drew back, Valencia was smiling softly. He didn’t quite know what it was about that smile, but Obi-Wan would do anything in his power to keep it on her face.

* * *

Anakin’s Knighting ceremony was cause for great celebration, and even Obi-Wan agreed to a drink or two in his rooms afterwards. A few of their friends popped in and out to congratulate Anakin on his achievement. There could be no doubt that Anakin was deserving the attention, and it was well-earned. Obi-Wan was immensely proud of how far he’d come, especially how quickly he’d adjusted to his replacement arm since losing his lower arm to Dooku.

However, it appeared not everybody was enjoying themselves. Valencia sat in the corner of the room with a drink in her hand, twirling her Padawan braid thoughtfully around her finger. Obi-Wan knew she didn’t partake in alcohol too often, but she was yet to refill her glass. As Anakin basked in the spotlight, Obi-Wan crossed over and sat beside Valencia. She took note of his presence and knocked back more of her drink.

“What is it?”

“I’m being selfish.” Valencia traced her finger around the rim of her glass, unwilling to meet Obi-Wan’s eyes. “I’m happy for Anakin. He deserves this moment. It’s been coming for some time. And yet, I can’t help but feel envious.”

“Your time…”

“Will come?” Valencia finished, raising her eyebrows, lips twisting into a forced smile. “I’ve heard those words so many times, Obi-Wan. From you, from Rhesa. I want to believe them, but I can’t help but feel that day is still so far away.”

“Anakin’s accomplishments are not a reflection on you,” Obi-Wan reminded her, “You are not in competition with anyone but yourself.”

Valencia mulled over his words, setting her glass down and gazing across the room. Anakin was telling a story, gesticulating wildly. Obi-Wan noticed that she had dressed up a little for the event – there was mascara on her eyelashes, and her lips were tinted pink.

“I should go and talk to him. I’m not being fair.”

“No,” Obi-Wan agreed, raking a hand through his hair, “But at least you can acknowledge it.”

Valencia eased herself to her feet and walked over to Anakin. It was astounding to Obi-Wan how quickly she could plaster on a smile, how readily she became full of warmth as she sat beside him, nudging him in the side and teasing him about something. Obi-Wan felt the need to keep his distance, to let the pair interact without him overlooking.

Anakin and Valencia had been good friends since Anakin had arrived at the Jedi Temple. It was hard to imagine there had ever been a time when Valencia had been taller than Anakin – he’d grown up quickly. Nonetheless, despite the difference in age and maturity, Valencia had welcomed the boy and taken him under her wing. It was only natural that she was proud of his achievements despite her frustration at not commencing the Trials herself.

* * *

The news of Rhesa Vandelay reached Coruscant mere weeks after the onset of the Clone Wars. Obi-Wan received it with a heavy heart – Rhesa had been a woman of composure and compassion. There had been more that the Council had asked of him, and he went to visit the woman who was most impacted by this tragic news. Rapping his knuckles on the door, Obi-Wan stepped inside when it hissed open.

Valencia stood in the doorway. Her eyes were red-rimmed and the tip of her nose was shiny. It was obvious that she had been crying. She had undoubtedly heard the news. Obi-Wan wondered who had broken it to her, and he put her arms around her and swept her into a tight embrace. Obi-Wan was not often physically affectionate, however he felt that today, the occasion called for it.

“She’s dead.” Valencia’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “My master is dead.”

“I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan didn’t know how to comfort someone through a loss. How had he gotten through losing Qui-Gon? It had been a decade now, and he couldn’t seem to remember. When he drew back, he realised that crying seemed to make Valencia’s eyes take on a greenish hue.

“What happens to me now?” Her expression was one of desperation, as though she feared that Rhesa’s death would mean her expulsion from the Order.

“The Council have assigned you to me.” Obi-Wan hoped that it would bring her comfort. He had been approached by Yoda, and agreed to the assignment. Anakin had just been Knighted, and it would do Valencia good to work with someone she knew. There was no doubt that she was almost ready for the Trials herself.

“Oh.” Her flat answer was not what Obi-Wan had hoped for, and he felt a little crestfallen at the bland response. He knew that she was mourning her master, but it seemed as though she was disappointed with the assignment.

“Is something the matter, Valencia?”

“No.” The young woman crossed over and sat on her bed, tugging her knees to her chest and taking a deep breath. When she closed her eyes, tears tracked down her cheeks. “I just don’t want to be alone. Will you stay for a while?”

Although taken aback by the request, Obi-Wan sat on the edge of her bed. He knew that grief could be a difficult thing to move past, especially when the loss was so sudden. Valencia reached out hesitantly, taking his hand in hers. Her skin was soft and warm to the touch. She linked her fingers through his, purposefully avoiding meeting his eyes. There was something strange in the way the Force moved around her, like a complex mixture of emotions was emanating from her. It wasn’t just grief, but other things as well, things that Obi-Wan found impossible to place.

“I am grateful to be your Padawan,” Valencia admitted softly, “I just don’t want it to complicate matters.”

Obi-Wan didn’t understand. “What could it complicate?”

“You’ve recently learned that I have a son.” Valencia shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose I must not be the person you thought you knew.”

“It doesn’t change who you are,” Obi-Wan assured her. He looked down at their linked hands. It was certainly not something he was used to – his contact with Anakin had been minimal, and not as intimate. He supposed having a female Padawan would be different.

Unbidden, his mind dwelled to his past relationships. Valencia had her secrets, and he had his. Obi-Wan had had romance before too, only he’d managed to put his duty first. He knew that with time and training, Valencia could manage to do the same when it came to Beck.

Valencia rested her head on his shoulder, sniffing. She didn’t relinquish her grip on his hand, and Obi-Wan felt that he wasn’t uncomfortable with the contact. Valencia had always been open with physical affection, prone to hugs and touches. He didn’t think there was anything that could complicate their new bond, although he knew that the young woman certainly felt otherwise.


	6. Web of Mystery

Valencia knew that it was no coincidence when she stepped into one of her favourite cafes on Coruscant, and saw Ferus Olin sitting in one of the booths closest to the counter. It had been several months since her friend had left the Jedi Order. With a cry of delight, Valencia ran over to throw her arms around Ferus, who accepted the affection with a small smile.

Valencia knew the circumstances of Ferus’s departure. During a confrontation with Granta Omega and Jenna Zan Arbor, enemies of the Republic and currently suspected Separatist allies, Ferus had swapped lightsabers with fellow Padawan Darra Thel-Thanis, who had ultimately been killed by Omega. Ferus had become disillusioned, and nothing could shake his sense of guilt. Valencia had been disappointed when he left, but she understood.

“It’s good to see you.” Valencia examined him. Her friend looked well, like he was thriving despite his departure from the Order. It suited him, she decided. He had been so dedicated to the Order that she had worried he may not find life outside it, but she was pleasantly surprised that Ferus had proved her wrong.

“As it is to see you.” Ferus gestured for her to sit across the booth from him. Valencia gladly took a seat, grateful for the opportunity to spend time with an old friend.

“What are you doing these days?” Valencia leaned forward, eager to hear all about what Ferus had accomplished in the handful of years since his big decision.

“I don’t know if it’d be considered...savoury.” Ferus raked his fingers through his hair, but he continued before Valencia could question his meaning. “There’s been word of Granta Omega.”

Valencia shook her head fervently. “Please tell me that you aren’t thinking of revenge.”

“I’m not a Jedi anymore,” Ferus reminded her, his voice gentle but his eyes sharp, “But it’s not that. He’s a confirmed Separatist, and there’s something else you need to know.”

She frowned. “What?”

Ferus took a sip of his jawa juice. “Omega is relentlessly hunting down a bearded man and a blonde woman who are in the Jedi Order.”

The descriptions were vague enough that it could really have been anyone, but Valencia’s blood ran cold. She had the distinct feeling that those descriptions meant something. She couldn’t have said why, as it would make no sense for Omega to have any interest in her. Why would he be hunting her?

“Obi-Wan and I. But why…?”

Ferus put down his glass. “Omega’s father was Xanatos.”

Valencia remembered what Count Dooku had said on Geonosis. Xanatos had been a failed apprentice of Qui-Gon’s. An uneasy feeling came over Valencia at the idea that the Council may know more about what had happened to Xanatos than they let on. She’d never entertain the idea that Dooku could be right about something...and yet, was he?

“How did Xanatos die?”

“He committed suicide.” Ferus shrugged his shoulders, and she wondered where he’d heard all these stories she’d never come across. “But Omega blames the Jedi Order for his death. More specifically, he blames your father.”

“But…Qui-Gon has been dead for over a decade.”

“I know that. But revenge is a strange and terrible thing. I think he’s become obsessed with exacting revenge on those Qui-Gon cared about, and that means you and Obi-Wan.”

Valencia had never met Omega. She didn’t know what he looked like, didn’t know him by anything more than reputation. Why was he so interested in her and Obi-Wan? It was exceptionally concerning now that she was Obi-Wan’s Padawan, considering that it would make it easier for Omega to find them together. She remembered Ferus once saying he couldn’t be sensed through the Force at all. He was a disturbing anomaly.

“Where did you hear this?” she asked, brow furrowing as she dreaded the answer. “Ferus, what do you do these days?”

“I’m a bounty hunter.” Ferus traced his finger around the rim of his empty glass, not daring to meet Valencia’s eyes. She was astonished, yet she felt no judgement. The Guild served all parties, not just Separatists. She could not think too harshly of Ferus’s choice.

“Did you come to warn me?”

“Yes.” Ferus eased himself to his feet, sliding out of the booth. “The Jedi are not infallible, Val. I learned that the hard way. Please, don’t underestimate Omega as we did. I don’t know what he wants from you and Obi-Wan, but it’s nothing good.”

Valencia appreciated the honesty, but was troubled by it. The Clone Wars were in full force, and she had far bigger concerns. Yet somehow, the idea that she was being shadowed by a man who knew a lot about her, and who she didn’t know much about, was the most terrifying thing of all. Nonetheless, she finished her drink and stood to give Ferus a farewell embrace.

“If you ever want to catch up…”

“I don’t know if that's a good idea.” Ferus’s smile was tight. “It’s best if things remain...professional. I can let you know Omega’s movements if I know them, but…”

“Oh.” Valencia nodded fervently, quickly disguising how crestfallen she was that Ferus did not want a friendship and instead opted to put space between them. “Of course.”

Valencia knew the moment Ferus left that despite her avoiding Obi-Wan since he’d been declared her new master, she needed to speak to him about what she’d learned. If they were targets for Omega, he certainly had to be made aware.

* * *

Anakin had an apprentice, a fourteen-year-old girl named Ahsoka Tano. Valencia fondly recalled the first days of being Rhesa’s Padawan, how thrilled she had been at the idea of acceptance from such a renowned master. She deeply respected Obi-Wan, but it hadn’t been the same. She was of an age now where she felt she should endure the Trials and accept her place as a Knight, not remain beholden to a master.

Pushing such thoughts aside, Valencia folded her arms and watched the young Togruta Padawan sparring with Marion. She was nimble, but also reckless. Valencia could already tell that Anakin was going to have his hands full with her. Deep down, she found herself craving a Padawan of her own - something else she shook off. She needed to complete the Trials before any such thing could even come to mind.

“Do you want to join in?” Obi-Wan appeared at her side, leaning against the wall and watching the teenagers spar. Ahsoka was the more ferocious of the pair, but Marion had a patience and stamina the younger girl lacked. Valencia had always been good at observing the fighting styles of others, and adapting her own to suit - although she had her preferred Form.

“No.” Valencia shook her head. “I think I would rather spar with those my own age, and closer to my own talent level.”

For a few moments, they stood in peaceful quiet, watching the two apprentices spar. Eventually, Marion gained the upper hand, lightsaber pointed triumphantly at Ahsoka’s throat. A wide smile spread across her features, although Ahsoka scowled.

“I saw Ferus earlier, in a cafe.” Valencia kept her voice low so as not to disturb the teenagers. “He believes a man named Granta Omega is after us.”

She glanced at Obi-Wan, assessing his reaction. His brow furrowed at the mention of the name.

“I don’t understand. Why would he be pursuing us?”

“Ferus thinks it’s to do with Qui-Gon.” Valencia shrugged her shoulders, as though acting casual could possibly conceal the fact that her heart was hammering in her chest. The Jedi had always had enemies, but the idea of being personally targeted was extremely disturbing to her. 

“We’ve been given our first assignment.”

Valencia perked up at that. It had been some time since she’d had a proper mission. She mourned the loss of Rhesa, yet she could not deny she was excited at the prospect of a mission with Obi-Wan.

“What is the mission?” she asked, taking care not to reveal too much of her anticipation for fear of seeming over-eager.

“The Separatists are causing some issues on Dressel.”

Valencia recognised the name. It was a Mid-Rim planet, neutral in the Clone Wars. Perhaps the Separatists were attempting to forcibly recruit them to their cause. It wouldn’t be unlike them. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and continued.

“General Grievous is among them.”

The name sent a thrill of dread through Valencia. Already, the cyborg general was making a name for himself. He had killed several Jedi, and apparently collected their lightsabers. He was deadly and not to be underestimated.

Valencia still wanted to discuss Omega, and felt that perhaps Obi-Wan had glossed over the topic. However she understood that Grievous was paramount, and she was more focused on the task at hand. Such a conversation could wait until their return. Their goal had to be stopping the Separatists from gaining more power.

“Dressel.” Valencia nodded, the slightest hint of a smile gracing her lips. “When do we leave?”

“In the morning,” Obi-Wan said, his gaze turning back to the two duelling Padawans. They appeared to have called it a day, with Marion having triumphed over Ahsoka. She was talking animatedly with Aayla. One day, Valencia hoped she would find out what that bond was like from the other side - a master to a Padawan.

For now, being Obi-Wan’s apprentice would have to do.

* * *

The descent into Dressel was as turbulent as Valencia’s wild heartbeat. She wanted to appear cool and calm, but she was aware of the sort of menace they were dealing with. This felt more real than anything she’d experienced since the Battle of Geonosis. From the briefing they’d received, Grievous was in the capital stirring trouble - and it was up to Obi-Wan and Valencia to stop him.

“What’s the goal?” Valencia asked as they touched down on the outskirts of the capital city. Dressel’s capital was a cesspit of bars and gambling dens, but the planet made a lot of money through some illegal trades. It made sense as to why the Separatists would want them on side - morally they may be ambiguous, but financially, they were a smart bet.

“We need to capture Grievous if we can.” Obi-Wan strode down the ship’s ramp, looking toward the bright lights of the city, “If we can’t, we at least need to drive the Separatists away. Dressel wouldn’t ally with the Republic, but perhaps they might with the Separatists.”

Apparently there was bad blood between the Republic and Dressel. Valencia didn’t know the politics of the situation, nor did she need to. Her task was the one at hand, and whilst the population of Dressel might not appreciate Republic interference, one thing was clear: if the Separatists were on Dressel, the Republic may as well be also.

“Where do we think he might be?” Valencia asked.

“The clone troops reported seeing him enter the city,” Obi-Wan responded, drawing his hood up over his face. Valencia mirrored his movement, casting around to ensure they weren’t being watched. “Whether he’s made an ally of a crime lord is yet to be determined.”

Valencia frowned. She couldn’t imagine Grievous hitting the clubs. Perhaps he was sneaking around in the darkness - Grievous wasn’t known for being heroic in the slightest. If he thought he could save himself, he’d turn tail and run. Ensuring her lightsaber was at her fingertips, Valencia strolled after Obi-Wan toward the blinking lights of the city.

It reminded her somewhat of Coruscant, but it was grittier. Whilst the centre of the galaxy was pristine and boasted of wealth and prosperity, the capital of Dressel spoke volumes about what sort of trade the planet undertook. As they headed through the streets, the population watched with guarded eyes, acknowledging but disapproving of the fact that this was Jedi business.

“Obi-Wan.” Valencia reached out on instinct and caught his arm, indicating a tall, lanky figure matching Grievous’s description darting among the buildings. Realising her actions were inappropriate considering their new dynamic, she flushed and released him. “I mean...Master. I think I saw Grievous.”

“So did I.” Obi-Wan slipped his lightsaber into his hand. “Be ready. We might not know what he’s up to, but we shouldn’t underestimate him.”

Nodding, Valencia followed Obi-Wan cautiously through the alley they’d seen Grievous make his way down. He was frustratingly inconspicuous for a creature of his size. It must have rained recently, because Valencia found herself darting around puddles to avoid splashing all up her Jedi robes. 

When they stepped out into the street, Grievous was there to meet them - along with a multitude of droids. Valencia’s heart thudded as she wondered whether they’d been led into a trap of the Separatists’ making. Grievous appeared positively delighted at their appearance, as though he’d been expecting them.

“General Kenobi.” Grievous’s malevolent yellow eyes darted to Valencia. “Commander Jinn.”

Valencia stepped forward and ignited her lightsaber, throwing a violet hue through the darkened streets. Her teeth flashed in a broad grin as she observed the cyborg general. The droids behind him moved forward, their guns clicking as they recognised the threat to their leader. Valencia remained undaunted. 

Grievous drew two lightsabers, igniting them - and Valencia’s blood boiled to know that he carried the weapons of fallen Jedi as though they were trophies. She made to take another step forward, but was restrained by a firm hand on her shoulder. Grievous’s chuckle was low and menacing.

“Val,” Obi-Wan’s voice was soft, but she could hear the warning in his tone. Something about this situation felt off, although she couldn’t explain what. She could feel Grievous’s presence in the Force but there was something else, a strange void that she didn’t understand. It made her feel cold inside.

Valencia’s grip on her lightsaber tightened to combat the fact that her palms were clammy. Grievous was watching intently, waiting for her to make the first move. From what she could tell, this did not seem like him - the cyborg general was always eager to attack. The tightness of Obi-Wan’s jaw indicated he was thinking along the same lines.

“Didn’t I tell you the Jedi would come running?” A hooded man stepped out of the shadows, his presence causing Grievous to stow his lightsabers. There was something in the look they exchanged that made an unpleasant shiver race up Valencia’s spine. She glanced at Obi-Wan, who likewise appeared perturbed. She hadn’t even sensed the man approaching them.

“Valencia.” He looked at her and lowered his hood, and the dark-haired man smirking at her was familiar, and she tensed all over as she realised who he was. She lowered her lightsaber, her fingers trembling.

“Saxon?” Her voice was little more than a horrified whisper as she attempted to make sense of what was happening. If it wasn’t him, then she was seeing his ghost, surely.

“That’s not really my name.”

In the sudden horror of Saxon’s appearance, Valencia had lost track of Grievous. When she spun around, he was behind her, towering over her. Overcome by terror, Valencia threw up her lightsaber, but the cyborg general dealt a swift backhand with enough force to send her flying. Valencia’s head smacked against the cement, the lights winking in and out of focus before dying completely amidst the sharp pain and blackness that swallowed her whole.

Her last thought was of Obi-Wan.


	7. Omega

Obi-Wan couldn’t have said how much time passed before Valencia woke, groggily coming to consciousness and inspecting her surroundings. She took in her wrists and the cuffs that bound them, squinting as she adjusted to the darkness. The passage of time was difficult to tell, but he assumed he’d been awake around an hour or so. He had tried to meditate, finding it hard to focus considering their current situation.

“Obi-Wan?” she asked quietly. Her voice quavered with uncertainty. For a woman typically so confident, it unnerved him to hear her uncertainty.

“Yes, I’m here.” He hoped that he sounded reassuring. Before he could continue, the door to their cell hissed open. Obi-Wan tensed, anticipating Grievous - however it was the man who had been with him, the dark-haired one that Valencia had referred to as Saxon. She had recognised him, although Obi-Wan could not have said how.

“I’m glad to see you’re both awake.”

On closer inspection, Obi-Wan did recognise the man - and he would have reached for his lightsaber had it been on his person. The man that Valencia called Saxon was none other than Granta Omega, who had killed Jedi, who was their sworn enemy. The idea that his Padawan knew him as something else perturbed him, and he wondered what circumstances she had met him under.

“You,” Valencia spat, eyes wild and shoulders tense as she glared up at him. “Why are we here?”

Her defiance reminded him of Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan’s heart ached at the realisation. He dispelled the thought in a moment, inhaling deeply and focusing on the task at hand. They had been captured by Grievous and Omega, meaning that it seemed their enemies had joined forces and Omega was now a Separatist.

“Val,” Obi-Wan said, his voice heavy as he realised his Padawan had no idea who they were dealing with, “This is Granta Omega.”

“No.” The whisper came out hoarse, and Valencia’s eyes were full of horror as she inspected the man in front of them. She’d never met him...or had she? If she knew him as Saxon, the implication was that they’d met under different circumstances.

“We both went by different names.” Omega shrugged his shoulders, nonchalant. “Why does it matter now who I am?”

Valencia’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears and Obi-Wan realised whatever twisted history they shared, she felt betrayed by the knowledge of who he was. He hadn’t anticipated that their enemy’s appearance would have had such an impact on Valencia. What was it that she hadn’t told him?

“Val?” Obi-Wan prompted gently, as the blonde woman’s shoulders were wracked with sobs, “How do you know him?”

“Because I…because we…” Valencia was crying openly, tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes dark with shame. She couldn’t look him in the eye. A sense of something dark came over Obi-Wan, an ominous feeling.

Omega smirked. “Because I had sex with her.”

“You…” Obi-Wan forced himself not to come to the wrong conclusion, turning his attention on the sobbing Valencia. “Did he force you?”

“No,” she choked out, and hid her face in her hands like somehow that was even worse. “It happened when I was seventeen.”

It suddenly occurred to Obi-Wan, as he clocked the numbers. The timing of when Valencia had slept with Granta Omega, little knowing that he was the enemy, the timing of Beck’s birth. Realisation dawned upon him, terrible and shocking.

“Beck is his son,” he whispered.

“What?” Omega frowned, and Obi-Wan realised with horror the mistake he’d made. Valencia had never wanted to talk about Beck’s father because Omega hadn’t known about Beck. Her tears stopped immediately as she stared up at Omega, assessing his reaction to what Obi-Wan had just said. There was curiosity in his expression, and Obi-Wan sensed that was even worse than disinterest.

“Nothing.” She shook her head fervently, as though that could erase the words Obi-Wan had spoken.

Omega arched a dark eyebrow. “We have a child?”

“You don’t have anything,” Valencia spat, her slim body shaking with anger, “He’s my son. He has nothing to do with you.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and willed her silently to remain calm. To surrender to rage would be to drift dangerously close to the Dark side of the Force. Omega wanted her fury. It was up to Valencia to deny him that. Omega’s handsome face was cruelly amused, pale eyes sweeping lazily over Valencia’s body.

“He must be a good-looking boy. You’re still an attractive woman, Jedi or not.”

This time, Valencia said nothing. She averted her eyes, and Obi-Wan could tell that she was ashamed. Although she no longer cried, she shrivelled in on herself at Omega’s attention. Had she known who this man was, Beck wouldn’t exist. Obi-Wan knew that she blamed herself, however unreasonably.

“What do you want with us, Omega?” he asked, keeping his tone level. He needed to ensure at least one of them appeared to be composed, and that certainly wasn’t Valencia at this point. Omega paced back and forth, his boots clunking across the floor. Valencia observed his every move, her hands fisted within her cuffs.

“Initially, revenge. However, now I know there’s a child in the mix...how old is the boy now? Five?”

“Six,” Valencia said through clenched teeth. Obi-Wan wished she would remain silent. She was just playing Omega’s game.

“He’s part of the Order, isn’t he?” Omega’s cold eyes swept between them. “It must be amusing for you, Kenobi, to know how much I hate the Jedi, and now to realise my son is training to become one.”

Valencia’s expression morphed into one of pure horror. “He’s just a little boy, you can’t…”

Omega held up a hand, silencing her. “I don’t intend to harm him. I intend to save him.”

“Save him from what?” Valencia’s brow furrowed.

“The Jedi.” Omega’s lip curled, and hatred flashed in his pale eyes. “You see, the reason I wanted you and Kenobi here because you are the ones who meant the most to Qui-Gon. The man who killed my father.”

“Qui-Gon never killed your father,” Obi-Wan interjected, unwilling to hear Omega speak his late master’s name when it wasn’t the truth, “Your father committed suicide to evade capture.”

“Xanatos,” Valencia murmured, the name off her lips like a punch to the stomach. Obi-Wan hadn’t realised that she knew, but suspected someone must have said something to her. It was not common knowledge. Omega had always blamed Qui-Gon for Xanatos’s death.

“Ah, so you know of him.” Omega’s disdainful expression turned to delight. “He was once Qui-Gon’s apprentice, until he left the Order, disillusioned with what the Jedi really were. They considered him an enemy. They hunted him down.”

Obi-Wan hoped Valencia didn’t believe a word this man said, but he was cautious. She had found Omega charming and attractive once, enough so as to have conceived a child with him. He could be a dangerously persuasive speaker, and he feared that Omega meant to influence his apprentice, to tempt her from the Light.

“Why?” Valencia rose to her feet. Obi-Wan expected Omega to take a step back, though he did not. He had half a foot on the Jedi Padawan, and likely didn’t consider to be much of a threat. A foolish move on his part, for a moment later, Valencia had removed the blaster from where it had been in his holster, pointing it in his face despite her bound wrists.

Omega laughed. “Clever girl. I remember why I liked you.”

“Shut up and open the door,” Valencia snapped.

Omega held up his hands and did as instructed. He was always one to save his own skin. Obi-Wan pushed himself up as well, crossing over as the door hissed open and Valencia forced Omega to remove their restraints.

“I wouldn’t look so pleased if I were you. There is no chance that Grievous would let you both leave.”

“I agree with you.” Valencia backhanded Omega across the face with his blaster, and satisfaction flared in her eyes as he collapsed. She turned to face Obi-Wan, the epitome of calm as she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Let’s find our lightsabers and get off this damn ship.”

* * *

The ship had been poorly guarded, and the two Jedi had managed to escape with minimal hassle. Dispatch a few droids here, find a ship to commandeer there. Valencia couldn’t help but wonder if it had been Omega or Grievous’s idea to take them into custody, but the fact that they appeared to be working together was cause for concern. There was still a lot they didn’t know, though Valencia was focused on something else entirely as they jumped into hyperspace.

The father of her son was Granta Omega. How many times had she heard of the horrific things he’d done, the fact that he had caused the death of a friend and another to depart the Order altogether? She resolved to speak with Ferus about what she had learned. He might not be a part of the Order anymore, but she would be damned if he wasn’t going to become one of their most resourceful allies.

Beck did not know who either of his parents were. That was for the best. If he knew about Valencia, he would have had questions about his father, questions that she wouldn’t have wanted to answer. She had been a teenager, but how had she been so stupid? Omega could have tortured her. He could have killed her. She had been so wrapped up his dark charm, so ready to believe the false name.

“Val?” Obi-Wan rested a hand on her shoulder, making her jump as she was drawn from her reverie. “You’ve been silent ever since we escaped.”

“I’m just thinking,” Valencia murmured, staring out into deep space. “I knew that the stupid things I did when I was a teenager would come back to bite me. I knew there would be consequences. I just didn’t think they would be lasting, that the punishment for my crimes would be ongoing.”

“Crimes?” Obi-Wan frowned, brow furrowing. “Val, you were little more than a child. We all make mistakes.”

“I was the one who had sex with Omega.” Valencia clenched her jaw, burning with guilt. “I was the one who had his kid.”

She could never blame Beck for his father. She saw nothing dark inside that boy. He had a bright, sunny disposition and unfailing optimism. No, she didn’t resent the child that had come from her brief union with Omega. She resented herself for being foolish enough not to see what he was.

“You didn’t know.” Obi-Wan swivelled in his seat to look directly at her. “How could you have known? He lied to you.”

Valencia’s smile was thin. “I know you’re trying to comfort me and make me feel better about it.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Is it working?”

Her smile became wider and warmer. “Perhaps a little.”

Valencia understood what Obi-Wan was saying, but somehow she couldn’t let go of the shame that crept up inside her, something she thought she’d shaken off after she’d had Beck. It was back again, and this time she thought it would take some time to get rid of. 

She was grateful for Obi-Wan. Without him, she thought this would be a lot harder to digest. Valencia was pleased to have a master who seemed to always know what the right thing to say was. He hadn’t chastised her for getting angry with Omega, for almost losing her temper. If he had been disappointed at her lack of control, he recognised this wasn’t the time to comment.

“What do you think he would have said?” Valencia asked softly, and they both knew to whom she was referring without her needing to clarify. Obi-Wan appeared deep in thought for a few moments, before he answered.

“I think he would have believed the same. He wouldn’t have held you accountable for something you didn’t know.”

Valencia liked to hope that he was right. She felt a little sad that she had to ask Obi-Wan what Qui-Gon would have believed. She hadn’t known her father as well as she had liked, due to attachment being forbidden. What would life have been like, she couldn’t help but wonder, if she had grown up with a real father?

* * *

Valencia left Obi-Wan to debrief the Council on what had occurred. She didn’t think she wanted to be there and feel their judgement as they fixed accusatory looks on her for sleeping with the enemy, even if she hadn’t known that was what he was. She had kept Ferus’s comm details so that she could get in touch with him, and she immediately asked him to meet her at Dizzy Dewback Cantina.

It was dusk when she joined him at one of the booths. He already had a jawa juice in front of him, gloved fingers clenched around it. Was it a bounty hunter thing to be so brooding? She noted that he didn’t appear impressed to see her. Ferus hadn’t been like that before, although she supposed losing Darra must have had an impact.

“What, can’t old friends catch up?” She tilted her head to the side, her smile teasing. Ferus didn’t reciprocate, and her enthusiasm faded as she slid into the booth across from him. His eyes darted around the diner as if he was concerned someone would see them.

“This isn’t what it’s about.” Ferus shook his head slowly. “The Jedi Council wouldn’t approve of you keeping company with a bounty hunter.”

Valencia waved a dismissive hand.

“Come off it, the Jedi have done business with shadier sentient beings than you.”

“I’m serious, Val.” Ferus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“Yes, well, my reputation is already somewhat tarnished.” Her tone became clipped, causing Ferus to examine her in confusion. No doubt he thought she was the model student. She had managed to keep most of her rebellious antics as a teenager under wraps, especially her biggest defiance of all.

“What are you talking about?”

Valencia took a shaky breath. After so many years of keeping Beck’s origins to herself, it felt nerve-wracking to confide in anyone about the truth. When she thought about the timing, Ferus had just left the Order when everything had happened. It seemed like so long ago now, it was hard to remember what had happened first.

“Six years ago, I gave birth to a son. Beck. He’s a youngling at the Temple now.”

Ferus gave a low whistle. “Kriffing hell, Valencia.”

“That’s not the worst of it.” Valencia clasped her hands, interlinking her fingers and refusing to meet Ferus’s eyes. “His father, as it turns out, is Granta Omega.”

An awful silence fell over the table. She had not expected her old friend to be happy to hear the revelation. Her hands were shaking and she refused to look up from the table. She was scared of what she would see in Ferus’s eyes.

“Why?” The single syllable was pained.

“He said his name was Saxon.” Valencia looked up finally, seeing confusion and horror on Ferus’s face. “I had no idea who he really was until recently. You told me that he was after Obi-Wan and I. It was only when he captured us that I realised the truth.”

“Was it before or after Darra?” The question was sharp as a knife. There was no accusation in it, but it couldn’t help but make Valencia feel uncomfortable. She shook her head vigorously, eyes pleading with him to understand.

“Ferus, I didn’t know.”

“Valencia.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Answer the question.”

“After,” she whispered, her cheeks burning with heat and angry tears welling in her eyes.

For a few moments, the only sound was the clattering of cutlery and the diner’s background music. When Valencia dared to look up, she could see that there was no accusation in Ferus’s expression. He knew her well enough to realise that she wouldn’t have knowingly slept with an enemy. Valencia had the impression that if he’d known she was a Jedi, Omega wouldn’t have touched her, unless it had been out of spite.

“What are you going to do about him?” Ferus raked his fingers through his hair, leaning back with a sigh. “More importantly, why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because he’ll be back.” Valencia swiped his cup of jawa juice and had a sip. “For me, for Obi-Wan. He’s not the sort who’s going to let a vendetta go. Especially not that he knows about Beck.”

Ferus looked startled. “He knows Beck is his son?”

Valencia nodded slowly. It wasn’t something she wanted, and it only made her more protective of the youngling. She knew it was bad. Jedi weren’t meant to feel attachment, and she couldn’t show more of a care for Beck than the other younglings. Nonetheless, she had the sense of impending danger, that something terrible was going to happen. Her comm beeped, and she picked it up to see Obi-Wan’s face flash up.

“What did the Council have to say about everything?” Her voice was cool, her expression betraying no hint of emotion.

“It’s not about that. Obi-Wan paused. “It’s about Beck.”

* * *

It hadn’t been difficult to acquire the child. It had been even easier for Omega to access the records and find out exactly who Beck was. Once the younglings had gone through Coruscant on their little excursion, Omega had singled out his son and lured him in with ease. The child hadn’t even realised something was wrong until he’d boarded the ship with Omega and they’d taken off from Coruscant. He supposed the kid was only six.

Grievous had been of great assistance with the Jedi, but this was personal, and there was no need to drag the cyborg general into this matter. Omega’s Separatist ties had paid off in terms of contacts, who had given him access to exactly what he’d needed to snatch the boy away from Coruscant.

Omega inspected the child. In terms of appearance, Beck certainly favoured him. Dark hair, big blue eyes. The way the boy tilted his head, the curiosity in his expression - that was certainly his mother in him.

Omega vaguely recalled his encounters with Valencia, years before in the underbelly of Coruscant. He hadn’t known what she was, of course. She’d been dressed differently, a spark of danger in her green eyes. A confident jut to her chin, a devious smile. He hadn’t known how young she was. She must have lied about that too, although he still hadn’t been all that much older.

Omega hated the Jedi, and so the idea that he’d fathered one with one was ridiculous in itself. Regardless, he would take the boy and raise him far away from the ideals his mother had attempted to instill in him. It wasn’t too late for Valencia - he was a Force blank, but even he could see the darkness in her. He’d seen it in their clandestine meetings years before, and he saw it again now. A savagery lingering beneath a pretty face.

Kenobi was a boring stickler for the rules. He didn’t interest Omega. The only reason Omega was so obsessed with him was to make him pay for the sins of the past. Valencia was another matter entirely. Despite knowing she was a Jedi, there was something intriguing about her. He didn’t quite know if he wanted to break her, or have her join him. Either would be immensely enjoyable.

“Where are we going?” Beck demanded. The child must be uneasy, but he masked his fear well. A show of bravery that was lost on Omega. He had no intention of hurting the boy. This was his flesh and blood, his legacy, just as he had been Xanatos’s.

“Home.”

“Coruscant is my home,” Beck insisted, his young face contorting into a scowl, “The Temple is my home.”

“I’m your father, Beck.” Omega drew away from the controls, moving to kneel in front of him. “You have nothing to fear from me. My name is Granta Omega.”

Beck examined him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. “Who’s my mother?”

Omega smiled. Just one word, and he could wreak destruction. It might be easy for Valencia to forsake her bond with her child, but it would be harder for Beck to put aside any sense of attachment toward the woman who was his mother. Most younglings remembered little of where they were from, and especially didn’t know much of their parentage. Young Beck had grown up under his mother’s watchful eye, and he hadn’t even known it.

* * *

After Obi-Wan had imparted the news of Beck’s disappearance, Valencia had asked him to meet her in Coruscant’s underworld. It was most unusual, but he wondered whether she had learned something. He had no doubt in his mind as to who had taken the child, and he thought Valencia may be thinking along the same lines. 

When he came upon his apprentice, she was watching speeders take off and land at a parking port for an extremely fancy restaurant. Despite the warm temperature and the thickness of her robes, she was rubbing her arms as though she was cold. Her eyes remained fixed on the movement of the speeders as she spoke.

“How did it happen?”

“The younglings were on excursion, and…”

She looked at him sharply. “Who took them out?”

“Valencia, they’re not at fault,” Obi-Wan said gently, resting a hand on her shoulder. Through the Force, he could feel her jumble of emotions regarding Beck’s disappearance. If there had been demand for a ransom, they would have received it by now. If Beck was dead...he didn’t want to think along those lines. The boy had to be alive.

“Someone has to be,” she argued.

“I think we both know who’s at fault.” The words were firm, and Valencia’s expression contorted into one of resolution.

“Then we have to go and get him back.”

“Val.” He heaved a sigh. He’d known even before he’d told her about Beck vanishing that this would be the path that she wanted to take. He could understand it. He just couldn’t allow it. “The Council will decide what happens now, and who will go after Omega to get him back.”

Valencia’s blonde hair whipped around her face in a sudden breeze. For a few moments, there was silence between them, and Obi-Wan wondered if she was taking what he said into account. He needed her to see reason. Acting on a need for vengeance was precisely what Omega wanted them to do. Valencia would fall easily into the trap he had set if she succumbed to her emotions.

“He won’t let us go free, you know that.” Valencia glanced at him, her eyes bright and wide. “He wants to torment us, and his plans have become even more twisted now that he has Beck.”

“Val…” Obi-Wan’s tone was solemn. “This isn’t Council-sanctioned. This is a vendetta.”

“I’m going after a youngling.” Valencia pressed her lips into a thin line, determined. “I would do the same for any of them. This isn’t just because Beck is my child. It’s because he’s  _ a _ child.”

Obi-Wan could not argue with that. He had seen how Valencia interacted with the younglings and knew she wasn’t wrong. She had a genuine compassion for children that wasn’t just limited to Beck. She had worked so hard to distance herself from favouritism, so accusing her of it now didn’t seem fair.

“Besides.” Valencia glanced hopefully toward the shadows. “I think I know someone who can help us.”

Ferus’s smile was grim as he stepped into the light. “General Kenobi.”


End file.
